Life and Limb
by purpleu
Summary: As House deals with learning that his leg was deliberately maimed by a doctor seeking revenge for House blowing the whistle on him, he must also deal with his patient, a firefighter with a leg problem that may also cost him his life. Lydia tries to help House handle these problems, but when a crisis occurs to two people close to him, will she even be able to help?
1. Chapter 1

"Life and Limb"

Chapter One-"Getting a Leg Up"

By: Purpleu

"Here you go, gentleman," the waitress said as she placed two bottles of Heineken on the table. "Do you need some more time, or are you ready to order?"

"We're going to start with some appetizers and work our way up to a pizza," House said. "Let's have an order of garlic bread with cheese, mozzarella sticks, chicken wings and…" He looked at Wilson. "You want the fried calamari?"

"Why not? Don't see how we'll manage a pizza with all we're ordering, but it sounds good," Wilson replied looking up at the waitress.

"How do you want the wings, mild or hot?"

"Hot," House answered before Wilson could say a thing.

"OK, I'll put this order in for you and leave the menus in case you have room for that pizza," the waitress said with a smile. "I'll be back in a little bit."

"You know, I think I'm going to wish you ordered those wings up as mild," Wilson said. "I swear I'm getting an ulcer."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you were born with an ulcer," House replied after taking a swig of his beer." Job starting to get to you, or is there trouble on the almost home front?" Wilson made a face.

"There is no trouble with me and Annie, that's for sure. We've started to move a few things that she was keeping in the storage area over to my place. The thing that made me feel really good, is she brought over a box that contained old family photos. The fact that she…felt comfortable enough to bring over something that important to her…I was really happy," said Wilson with a laugh.

"So sharing an office with the Dark Knight is finally getting to you?"

"No, I'm doing more and more of the work from my office up by you. And we get along just fine. Foreman gets a little intense when he feels things aren't going the way he wants, but…the problem is…I want to resign from the co-Dean position" Wilson started peeling the label off his bottle. "I'm a doctor who enjoys working with his patients no matter how difficult that may sometimes be. I don't want to do meetings and reports and all the other things that go with being an administrator."

"When are you planning on dropping this bombshell?" asked House. "Or should I just watch for Foreman to start licking his lips?" The waitress came by with plates, napkins, and their garlic bread.

"The rest will be out in just a few minutes," she said.

"Thanks," replied Wilson. He looked around the restaurant. Gino's was a rustic looking pizzeria with wooden booths in a separate area from tables with red and white cloths on them. "I can't believe we've never been in this place before," he said as he took a piece of the bread. "It's a little out of the way, but definitely worth the trip. We should bring Annie, Lydia and the kids here." House nodded as he took a drink of his beer.

"Any place that has old-fashioned pinball machines, Pac-Man, Asteroids, and the original Donkey Kong," he said referring to the game room off to the left of the main dining area, "Is good with me." Grabbing a slice of garlic bread, House returned the conversation to Wilson's decision to step down as co-Dean. "You know the board will try to talk you out of leaving. They are taking their sweet ass time picking a new Cuddy; and a push to make them spend less time with three cocktail lunches and more doing their jobs will not be well received."

"I only took the position to keep my mind occupied when you were in the coma. I wanted to deal with death from a distance, at that point, not with my regular patients. Until we knew you were going to be OK…I had trouble handling medicine up close and personal. I welcomed the paperwork and meetings." Wilson took a long drink of beer and stared down at the table.

"It also gave you less time to think about my situation and hang out in my room, waiting for me to twitch," House noted.

"I slept in your room the first three nights after we put you in the coma," Wilson said. "I only went home to sleep after Thirteen and Chase said they'd take turns staying with you overnight."

"Here you go." The waitress had returned to the booth with the wings, mozzarella sticks and calamari. She reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out forks and knives. "Do you need anything else? Another round?" House looked at his bottle.

"I don't usually suck them down that quickly, but don't go too far away," he said.

"I'll be nearby; just call me if you need me." She walked away as House looked over at Wilson.

"I had no idea I had company while I was hallucinating; I hope I didn't talk in my sleep."

"Come on, don't be so surprised. You'd do the same for me if the tables were turned."

"Only if the bed next to you was empty and the TV still paid for," House said. Wilson shook his head.

"If you say so," he said taking a wing. Wilson was quiet for a moment, thinking about the subject of his resigning. "We just ended a fiscal quarter; our fiscal year ends June thirtieth. I don't think I could hold out until year-end closing, but if I tell Foreman this week and the Board of Directors next week…everyone should have enough time to adjust and do something about the situation."

"So you want out ASAP, but June is the drop dead date," House said. "Hopefully Lydia will have worked enough magic by then to convince them to give her the job."

"Don't you think she ought to be asked if she wants the position? If things could be worked out, I would think she'd rather go to medical school with that special program the college offers. Lydia's waited a long time for the opportunity," said Wilson.

"There's no reason she can't do both," House said snagging a calamari ring. "She has a support network that can't fail. Between you, Annie, Tom, Marianne, Slick and my team, who she seems to have eating out of her hand," he said with a touch of jealousy, "There's not one of you who wouldn't help her." Wilson shot him a look.

"I noticed your name was absent from that list." House shrugged.

"It's my job to handle the more intimate issues of her life," House said with a smile. "I'll leave the mundane, everyday stuff to the rest of you."

"Don't even bring up the subject of intimate issues," Wilson said with a sigh.

"Annie's been down in Philly a little over twenty-four hours and you're already pining for her? You do realize you're pathetic," said House.

"I'm not pathetic. You mean to tell me that if Lydia had to go away for…say a medical conference, you wouldn't miss her?" Wilson asked.

"If she went away on a medical conference, I'd go with her as a personal bodyguard. I know how those conferences can be." Wilson laughed.

"Yeah, they almost always had their interesting moment," he said. "You ready for another beer?" House looked at his almost empty bottle as he grabbed a mozzarella stick.

"Sure; it's your turn to be the designated driver."

"You shouldn't really be having anything considering the medications Tom has put you on. How are they working? Still easing things up a bit?" House grimaced as he leaned against the wall of the booth and swung his right leg up onto the bench.

"If Tom wanted me to feel better, he should have held back on the Edgar Allen Poe version of what happened to my leg. I liked it better when I didn't know." Wilson was dreading this conversation. Tom had told him, Annie, House and Lydia about the info that was in House's medical chart two weeks ago; this was the first time they'd had the chance to be alone to talk about it. Wilson signaled to the waitress; they both were going to need more beer for this.

"Another round?"

"Yeah, we're ready," Wilson said.

"What about that pizza? You know, we have a ten-inch pie that would be like two of our individual pies put together."

"How do you know it's ten inches?" inquired House with a slight smile. The waitress hesitated before she responded.

"We've…we've measured it. I'll be right back with your beer." Wilson looked over at House. Despite him joking with the waitress, there was a sadness in his friend's eyes that hadn't been there much since Lydia showed up on the scene. Wilson wasn't even sure she could do much to help with this.

"House, I…I can't believe you never looked in your own medical file. You have the most insatiable curiosity of anyone on this planet; why didn't you look? You were supposed to have a small amount of necrotic tissue taken out; instead they removed, as you put it, something the size of your fist. You…of all people, knew you shouldn't be in the kind of pain you were in. Didn't you want to know why?"

"Here's round two," the waitress said, bringing the fresh beers.

"Want to order the pizza?" House asked without much enthusiasm. Wilson swore he was avoiding his last question.

"Sure; you can always take the leftovers home," Wilson said.

"If the kids will actually leave anything in there for me to eat," he said frowning.

"Oh, you have children?" inquired the waitress.

"Actually, they're my step-girlfriend's kids," House said sarcastically. Seeing the look of confusion on the girl's face, he simply went ahead and ordered the pizza. "We'll take the full-size pie…what do you want on it?" House asked Wilson.

"Oh, I get a choice this time? How about extra cheese and…do you have a meat lover's pie?"

"Yes, we do. So that's a large meat lover's pie with extra cheese. Anything else?"

"I think we've done enough damage with what we've ordered so far," said House.

"OK, I'll give this to the kitchen." Both House and Wilson were quiet for a bit, each working on finishing up their first beer. Wilson wanted to continue the discussion, but didn't know what to say. He knew House had been depressed, out of sorts since finding out the circumstances behind his leg operation. Wilson was surprised he agreed to come out tonight. If he didn't know better, Wilson would think House wanted to talk…

"When you take too deep of a look at yourself, physically or otherwise," House began, sparing Wilson the need to initiate conversation, "You see things you don't want to know, things that you can't do anything about. And if you can't do anything about them, why let them eat you up; why sit and stew over your failure to overcome your flaws? I tried to avoid doing that, and I failed miserably. I pushed away everyone around me, and the few that stayed, I put through hell. Now, with this new development, I don't see anything but a repeat performance." Wilson assumed House was making a comparison between Stacy and Lydia. Wilson knew that House regarded Lydia as his last chance to get a relationship right. For his own sake with Annie, Wilson hoped that House and Lydia could get through this together. She was amazingly patient with House, but everyone has their limits.

"I wouldn't call what happen with your leg a failure or a flaw; honestly, I'd call it an assault," Wilson declared.

"No, the real assault came when the people around me wrote me off as a drug addict," House said angrily, shooting a look at Wilson. "Which is one of the reasons I pushed them away."

"House, how many times did I find you lying in vomit, drugged and/or drunk out of your mind? What was I supposed to think?"

"You could have taken your head out of the foggy cloud of rumors and innuendo, and gone by what you knew about me. Yeah, I liked to party; you weren't innocent of that yourself. Maybe just once, you could've asked me if I wanted to talk about it. My leg, the pain…my childhood." Wilson nearly choked on the drink of beer he took.

"Talk about it? You? You're not exactly known for having serious, sincere discussions. House." Slowly peeling the label off his bottle, House was quiet for a moment.

"What do you call what we're doing right now?" he asked looking over at Wilson. "I wanted to talk about it with you for years…I needed you to pull it out of me like Lydia does. She's done it so well, that I don't always need her to bring things up; I can now start discussions myself." Wilson put his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. House actually wanted to talk? OK, but Wilson wasn't so sure _he_ wanted to. He needed to explain to House why he hadn't initiated a discussion with him sooner. Well, he thought…here goes nothing.

"I don't do very well with discussing people's pain and emotional discomfort," Wilson began. "I know, I know…that sounds strange coming from someone who deals with it in spades. My patients are people that for the most part, walk in the door and leave; more often than not, in a body bag. You don't have to deal with that…you're the wizard who makes everyone better and sends them on their way." Wilson reached over and picked up a mozzarella stick. "I never asked you about your leg or the pain because I knew you would blame me for not being there when it happened, not riding in like a…white knight and help save you from the situation. You figured you had a best friend, which you didn't have in your youth, and it was my job to get you through it. But I couldn't; I couldn't stand seeing you in pain. I can deal with my patients' suffering…not my friend's."

"Your only friend," House noted. "What I never understood is why the need to be the Bobsey twins? Why were we joined at the hip? I got the whole thing about your psycho brother, but you had a spare, a straight arrow just like you…why invest so much time with the societal pariah?" House was surprised at Wilson's reaction; he looked like he wanted to cry.

"There was a family friend, when I was growing up; Jack. He was…a lot of fun to hang out with, loved math and science, baseball. My brothers and I adored him." House had his head resting against the wall of the booth; he turned to look at Wilson.

"From the way you're rolling that mozzarella stick between your fingers, I think I can tell where this is going." Wilson dropped the piece of food onto his dish, and wiped his hands on a napkin.

"You don't know the whole story," Wilson said quietly, staring down at the table. "One day, when I was fifteen, I came home from school upset because this girl I really liked led me on. She used me to get to my friend. So, when I came home, I ranted and raved to my parents how I was done with girls, never wanted to bother with them again…"

"Boy, how time changed things," quipped House. He was going to go on, but he could see Wilson was upset.

"Jack was there and heard what I said. He invited me to his house that night to pick up some science books. Everything was great until the subject of my girl problems came up, and…he…he made a move on me, said I didn't need girls when I could have him. I pushed him away and told him to leave me alone and go to hell. I got out of there and ran home." Wilson grabbed his beer and took a drink, trying to regain his composure.

"Did your parents believe you when you told them?" House asked. Wilson shook his head.

"I never told them. I…I hoped it was a one-time thing, a misguided attempt at comfort on his part. Maybe he was drunk, I told myself or had smoked one of his 'herbal cigarettes.' But, when I told him no, he went after my brothers. I found out a year later, when they finally told my parents. Of course, all hell broke loose, and they wondered why Jack didn't go after me. I admitted that he did, but didn't tell. I can't even describe the reactions everyone had: anger, confusion, hurt. The worst was the constant question of why. Why didn't I say something? Why didn't I protect my brothers?" Wilson slammed his fist down on the table. "I didn't know that was my responsibility!" He took a couple of deep breaths.

"So, the one brother probably had PTSD from the abuse, on top of schizophrenia. Given that home held too many bad memories, life on the streets must have looked like a stay at the Waldorf Astoria," House said looking at his beer. "I had the impression the other one was fairly successful, suit and tie type; a lawyer or accountant with a family."

"He is," Wilson said. "And he blames me for what happened to him and my parents for being friends with someone like Jack. He just decided to reject all of us, put distance between himself and any reminder of what happened. He doesn't talk to any of us. He's blocked my e-mail and any access to Facebook." Wilson let out a sigh. "When you told me that you had gone through abuse as a kid…I kept waiting for you to add on the kind my brothers went through and…" Wilson looked at House. "I don't think I could have handled it if you suffered the same as they did. I couldn't…imagine you going through that. It was selfish on my part, but rather than let you talk about what you went through, I dismissed it so I wouldn't have to hear it," Wilson looked up at House. "I'm sorry…for this, and I suppose for many other things that you could think of, I haven't been a very good friend." House glanced over at Wilson and saw that there were tears rolling down his cheeks. It didn't make him very comfortable, but he did feel sorry for Wilson.

"Let's start with the fact that no one has ever touched my dinklehoffer without my consent; either given prior, or rapidly agreed to once things were set in motion. Next: Why the hell didn't you tell me this sooner? Granted, it's not a topic you'd find trending on Twitter…but friends should be able to deal with each other's nasty stuff."

"Because I didn't want to think of you going through any more than you already told me. House, you've been my best friend for over twenty years…and despite what you think, I've had other friends throughout the years. But you're the only one who's been there constantly. I know you don't want to hear this, but until they invent another word or phrase…you're my friend and I love you. And that's why I couldn't deal with finding out the full extent of the abuse you went through, any more than I can deal with thinking about what those bastards did to Annie." House started to peel the label on his bottle again. He paused for a bit to let Wilson get his act together.

"I don't think I have to tell you that 'I love you' doesn't come very easily to me, even when I'm talking to people I give a damn about. Don't ever expect to hear those words out of my mouth," House said looking away from Wilson, "But know that they apply to you." Wilson managed a smile and picked up a napkin to wipe away his tears from before.

"That is probably the best I'll ever get out of you…and I'll take it. So, are we OK?" Wilson asked. House nodded.

"We'll have to be; here comes the pizza." The waitress came over and placed the pie on a serving stand near the booth.

"Let me clear away some of these to make room," the waitress said. She gathered up the calamari and chicken wing plates. "Can I put these all on one plate? Or do you want me to bag them up?"

"I think we can bag them up," Wilson said, looking at House who nodded.

"OK. Should I keep a box at the ready to pack up most of the pizza?" asked the waitress looking at House with a smile.

"Nah. My nickname is 'The Human Garbage Pail.' Not to imply that anything you serve here is garbage." He glanced at the pizza, which looked delicious. "Give us a little bit, and I think you'll be amazed." The waitress nodded her head.

"If your nickname is 'Garbage Pail,' what's your real name?" House began to feel uncomfortable. A little flirting was one thing. He and Lydia agreed as long as it didn't cross the line into physical or emotional attachment, checking out what else is out there is part of human nature. But he had the feeling the waitress thought he was kidding about the "step-girlfriend" and the kids.

"House…and my girlfriend's name is Lydia. The kids' names are Ben and Elise." She shook her head.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"Don't worry about it; I don't mind the compliment." She smiled, then looked at Wilson.

"I suppose you have kids and a girlfriend, too." Wilson smiled.

"Just the girlfriend." The waitress sighed.

"The nice guys are always taken," she said with a laugh. "Enjoy your pizza." She walked away with the extra food to be packaged up. House and Wilson each attacked the pizza, pulling slices off for themselves. One would think neither one had eaten all day with the way they dove into the loaded slices.

"Good pizza," Wilson said. House didn't respond; he was thinking over what Wilson told him.

"Does Annie know?" Wilson looked startled that they were returning to the prior conversation.

"Yeah, I told her. She had asked me several times why, since we were such good friends, hadn't I bothered to find out more about what you had been through and why I didn't seem to believe you. That's when I told her what happened to my brothers."

"And you," House said quickly. "Don't know what the laws were back then, but since Funny Uncle Jack had molested you, too, his ass would be in jail."

"His ass is six feet under," Wilson responded. "I'll…I'll take that. What else can I do?"

"Talk to someone. You always pushed me to talk to someone other than you and Cuddy. Find someone you can unload on and get rid of some of that guilt that I know you carry oh, so well." Wilson watched as House worked on finishing off his slice of pizza.

"This is coming from the guy that turned Mayfield upside down and has less than kind things to say about Dr. Nolan? Not that I'm a fan of Nolan by any means, but…"

"It was just a suggestion," House said as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"I have Annie I can talk to about it. I couldn't tell any of my ex-wives, so it's a good sign that we can be that open with each other. And…I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but now at least you know why it seemed like I wasn't there for you."

"You weren't" House said looking up at Wilson, "But, I get it." Wilson nodded.

"I hope…that you feel now you can talk with me about your leg, the pain….or anything else."

"I'll deal with my leg," House said, going for a second slice. "It doesn't matter who did it or why, I have to live with the results. No point in sitting around wondering who tipped the scale with their complaint…and I know that's what you've been doing ever since Tom told us the scoop." House took a bite of the new slice. "Don't even bother trying to deny that you've been loading coal into the hopper of the Guilt Train."

"House, I filed three complaints…"

"At the same time I recommended criminal charges. Don't know which one trumps the other. I'll have to ask Ben if there are rules on that in any of those new poker games we've been playing." House looked up and saw Wilson laughing; smiles always made House more comfortable than tears. "Do me a favor…drop it. Can't be bothered wasting time on that right now." Wilson nodded in agreement.

"The topic is off the table," Wilson said. "It sounds like things are still going well for you with the kids? And Lydia?"

"You live right downstairs from us half the time. Do you hear any sounds of domestic discord?"

"No, but you interact with them in places other than home," Wilson pointed out.

"We're fine, Dr. Phil. Thanks for the concern." House leaned his head back against the wall and started to rub his leg. "I'm just trying to interpret and clarify two things that happened recently." House took a drink and worked on removing the rest of the label from the bottle. "Elise and I dropped Ben at soccer practice. We went to the stores; while I was looking around for the things we needed, she wandered away. I started calling her name, when this old lady comes up and asks me what's wrong. I tell her I can't find my daughter."

"WHOA! Not even stepdaughter? Daughter?" Wilson asked. House nodded.

"When she came back, I made it very clear, very calmly, that what she did was a no-no. There was no yelling, no tears."

"That's great," Wilson said. "You handled it perfectly." House shook his head.

"What came into my head was, 'It's been drilled into your little brain to stay with the adult you're with or didn't you understand what that means? And are you too stupid to figure out that if I lost you, your mother would kill me and never speak to me again?' It would have made for a very awkward date night that weekend." House took a drink of his beer. "That was my father talking."

"But you didn't say it out loud," Wilson pointed out. "You tempered your response to something far more appropriate and reasonable than what your father would say." House shrugged.

"And when the time comes that I don't edit my commentary? If something like that happens when I'm tired or my leg is killing me and I lash out at one of them? Then I'm no better than their dirtbag father. Which brings me to the other thing that has me more than a little uncomfortable. I headed into bed a little early the other night because Tom had worked me hard that day. The kids were still up, reading with Lydia in Ben's room. After they were done, they were talking…they asked her when they could start calling me 'Dad'…or 'Daddy' in Elise's case." Wilson's opened mouth response quickly changed to a smile.

"House…this is fantastic! You were worried from day one that the kids were going to hate you or something. This…this…"

"This will last as long as I don't screw up. But with all the crap going on with my leg…how will they react the day I say I'm not going to one of their games? Or I'm in no mood to play poker or the piano? They've had enough rejection in their lives, and knowing what it feels like, I won't blame them for any reaction they have." House sighed. "It's going to be OK for now; Lydia told them it's a little too soon to call me anything so warm and fuzzy. She said something about them looking for a replacement for their ex-father. For now, Lydia suggested they call me 'House', since that's what my friends call me."

"Seems to be a reasonable option," Wilson said as he looked at House. "You almost seem disappointed that Lydia said no to the parental title." House shot Wilson a look.

"With the moniker of 'Royal Jerk' that everyone assigns to me because of the way I deal with my leg, I don't need the burden of D-A-D added on." Wilson rolled his eyes.

"You're not too far away from doing something to give yourself a pretty good measure of relief with your leg. Look, Tom said there's a little bit of new necrotic tissue and some scar tissue that's got to come out because they're pressing on nerves. Once that's out and they put in the new medicine they have for the damaged nerves…"

"I'm not having the operation." Wilson stared at House blankly.

"What do you mean…"

"What the hell does it sound like? Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, I'm a freaking moron. I am not going back on the table. I was promised the moon, the sun and the stars last time, and all I did was crash back to earth." House's reaction to the suggestion of an operation didn't surprise Wilson; he just hoped he would say the right thing to change his friend's mind.

"House, you know this time will be different. Tom said what needs to be done, Chase can do it, assisted by Foreman. Taub will even be in there. Hell, if you want, Tom can scrub in, I'll scrub in…nothing will happen to you or your leg." House tapped his beer against the table, reached for his pizza slice and stared off in the distance. In a minute, he took a bite.

"I know that things will happen differently this time than they did last time," he said as he chewed his pizza. "But different doesn't mean better. It's a lovely gesture that you all want to be in there to hold my hand," House said sarcastically. "But all the hand holding in the world isn't going to make sure that Chase doesn't find a disaster in there. The next thing I know, when I wake up, I'll be told I have a decision to make." House swallowed his pizza and washed it down with a long drink of beer.

"And if you were offered a choice? Continue to live in pain, or amputate and learn to walk again like Tom?" Wilson asked.

"That's not a choice," House said bitterly. "That's a sentence to a life of misery."

"A life of misery with Lydia? Somehow, I think that's an oxymoron," Wilson noted. "No matter what happens, you've got her by your side, and you know it. You are more …contented, at peace and in love than I have ever seen you. Yet, you are definitely still House as evidenced by this conversation. You don't know that Chase is going to find a problem in your leg; the odds are he won't. But even if he does, you have a bunch of people on your side this time…Lydia being the most important," Wilson said. He hated to put anyone, even Lydia before himself with House, but right now, it was what House needed to hear.

"When Lydia brought up the idea of me consulting Tom about my leg, I told her I'd do it for one big and two little reasons. I didn't quite realize the extent of the commitment I was making."

"House, you told me a little while ago that everything was fine on the home front; the kids…love you. If they're asking about calling you 'Dad', then that's got to be true. I'd be shocked if you're telling me you have doubts about you and Lydia." House put the last bit of crust from his second slice into mouth and turned to look at Wilson.

"Wilson, I hate to tell you this…but you really can be an idiot," House said as he swallowed the food. "If something was wrong between Lydia and me, I wouldn't be here talking to you. I'd be at home using all my charm and good looks to straighten things out." The waitress reappeared to check on their progress.

"Wow! You guys really are demolishing that thing. Sorry I doubted you," she said looking at House.

"And I ain't even finished yet," he said reaching for slice number three. The waitress' eyes bugged out as she looked at Wilson.

"This is my second," he said, trying to show he could almost match House. She shook her head and laughed.

"I'll let you two have at it," she said walking away. Wilson looked at the slice on his plate.

"You're not even going to eat half of that, are you?" House asked. Wilson shook his head.

"I'll be lucky if I manage two or three bites," he admitted. He shook his head as he watched House heartily eat the slice before him. "So, seriously, everything is still good with you and Lydia?" House put the slice of pizza down.

"For the last time, Lydia and I are fine. Not perfect, I'll admit. We have our moments like all couples do. It's normal," House said a little defensively.

"Oh God, what did you do? Leave the toilet seat up? Use her toothbrush?" Wilson asked in a teasing tone as he recalled two of the problems House had with Cuddy in his coma induced delusions.

"I forgot to take out the garbage." Wilson looked at him incredulously.

"You're…you're kidding…aren't you?" House looked at Wilson.

"Completely serious. You and Annie were home; I almost knocked on the door to check and see if this was real or not. I heard lots of giggles coming from down below, yours as well as hers, so I stayed upstairs."

"Please tell me you did not have a fight over taking out the trash." Wilson tried to talk, but he started to laugh; quietly at first, but soon he could be heard at least several booths away. "That…that is the ultimate self-fulfilling prophesy!" Wilson said. "Obviously everything came out OK." House stared at him silently.

"No. I meant to tell you: the search for a co-habitation villa is off and I've actually been sneaking out at night and sleeping back at my place." Wilson looked at him blankly. "Of course everything is OK, you moron. We were both having really bad days. Remember the patient I had a few weeks ago, the one who kept lying to us, so it took forever to find out he was an anorexic pathological liar?"

"Oh, I remember him. His case drove you crazy."

"I was still working the case, and I didn't get home till about a quarter to nine. Marianne stayed a little longer and put the kids to bed. Of course, they weren't actually willing to sleep at that point, and by the time I convinced them it was bedtime, I had it for the night."

"I bet Ben wanted to help you with the case," Wilson said.

"As always," House said taking a swig of beer. "What gets me, is a lot of the time the kid has the right idea, just not nearly enough knowledge yet to carry through. Back to the story. Lydia had school that night, so she didn't get in until after ten. At work, she had to do battle most of the day with an insurance company that didn't want to pay for their client, for various lame reasons. That afternoon, she spent several hours in the clinic, always the ultimate joy. When I saw her, I could tell she was beat, and tried to convince her to play hooky. Not only does Miss Goody Two Shoes never do anything like that, turns out she had a test. She didn't even want to eat when she got home and just headed into bed, but not before asking me to take out the garbage. I had some salsa and chips while I thought over my case out on the deck, and when it came time to take the garbage out, guess who forgot?" House said wryly.

"Oh, crap and here she's tired and in a bad mood. What did she say?" asked Wilson.

"Normally, she would joke about it, bust my chops a little. I'd bust back at her, say she wanted me to be her slave, etcetera, etcetera. Lydia went out to the kitchen to get something to drink, and saw the garbage there. Next thing I know, I'm hearing things slamming and she's muttering to herself in German. The only time she speaks her native tongue anymore, is when my native tongue is making all the right moves on her body." Wilson closed his eyes and shook his head.

"House, I don't believe you said that." Ignoring him, House continued.

"When she comes back in the bedroom, I can tell she's pissed, so I asked, 'What's wrong?' She had no problem telling me." House looked pensive. "I'd never seen her like that; then again, I don't think she'd ever been that tired and frustrated before. After she finished reading me the riot act, I apologized, told her about my case and blamed my lousy memory on that. The next thing I know, she's crying and apologizing to me." House shrugged. "I convinced her to eat something, we sat and talked, caught up with things… then we kissed and made up…as much as we could with the kids in the house." Wilson took a drink if his beer and nodded his head.

"See, if every couple who had an argument, or screwed up in some way, would just come out and admit that they screwed up, and then have the guts to say they were wrong, I think there would be fewer divorces in this word."

"You would know; you're the expert in the area," House quipped.

"Don't remind me," Wilson said painfully. "Everything wound up OK then." House stared off into space.

"Yeah, Fraulein went on and on about the fact that we talked things out, didn't act stupid like so many couples do."

"And you?" Wilson asked.

"Me, what? Did I think it was a good thing that we didn't fight over something as idiotic as garbage? Duh!" Wilson laughed. House always had a unique way of saying things. It was one of the things he liked about House the most. Wilson really wanted to continue to press House on his decision not to have surgery on his leg, but he knew that wasn't the best idea. It was only two weeks since Tom dropped the bombshell on him; he needed more time to process the information that was revealed. Besides, Wilson thought to himself, the shroud had been torn off enough skeletons tonight; time to relax. The guys spent the rest of the night talking about everything from the next boxing match coming on cable to the new video game House bought and Lydia wouldn't let her son play. Wilson promised to have House over to his place one night soon, maybe even invite Tom and Slick, and see how many aliens can be killed in a five minute time span. The mood was fun and Wilson felt good; he hoped House did, too. After a bit, Wilson looked at his watch.

"Hey, it's after eleven. We both have work and I have a busy evening planned for tomorrow," Wilson said. "Let's get the check." House raised his eyebrows.

"You're not going to give the songbird a chance to cross the state line before you ravage her, are you? What time is she due in?"

"About six-thirty. We're just going to grab some Chinese food and catch up with each other."

"Yeah, a lot can happen in forty-eight hours," House said sarcastically.

"What can I get for you gentlemen?" the waitress asked. She had seen Wilson signal and came right over.

"Just the check," Wilson said.

"What, no dessert?" she teased.

"Next time; when I bring the kids," House said. The waitress put her head down, still a bit embarrassed.

"Hey, you know our names, what's yours?" Wilson asked.

"Crystal," she replied.

"What are you studying at NJIT?" House asked. Crystal was taken back.

"How…?"

"You went over to the gray sweatjacket over there," House said indicating the coat rack. "And took something out of the pocket. You don't strike me as a thief, so I figured it was yours." Crystal shook her head.

"Makes sense when you stop to think, which I obviously didn't do," she laughed. "I'm studying Biology and Math. I haven't quite decided yet whether to practice medicine in some form or do research."

"Do what you love," Wilson said. "It's what you'll be best at." Crystal nodded.

"Thanks; that's good advice." Crystal picked up the pizza pan. "I'll box this and bring your other food back." She left for the kitchen.

"Why do I have a feeling that she will be a hit with the kids when we bring them here?" Wilson asked.

"Maybe because she's a nice kid," House said. In a few minutes, Crystal returned with the check and the food.

"The pizza's in here," Crystal said tapping a brown box. "I marked each bag to indicate what's in it, and…" she dropped her voice down. "The unmarked bags have a bunch of garlic knots. We've got a new cook and he just made up a fresh batch. We're going to close in less than an hour; he shouldn't have done that. I don't want him to get into trouble with the owner, so I'd thought I'd give a bunch to you guys…for the kids and whoever else would like them."

"Nice of you to try and help the newbie," said House. Crystal looked over at the kitchen area.

"He's a nice kid. Needs a good swift kick sometimes, but…" House looked back and forth between the cook and Crystal.

"Your kid brother?" She was going to question how House figured it out, but she already knew better.

"Yeah. I've had official custody of him since our mom died last year. I got him the job here to try and keep him on the straight and narrow."

"Aren't you a little young to take on that kind of responsibility?" Wilson asked.

"I'm twenty-one," Crystal answered somewhat defensively. "We do OK. He…he just needed a break." She saw that there was a customer waiting to pay at the register. "Here's the check. I'll come back for that." House and Wilson watched her walk away.

"She's definitely getting a good tip," Wilson said as they looked over the bill. Each pulled out some money out; when they were done, what should have been a twelve dollar tip, amounted to forty.

"It's hard going to school and working," Wilson said with a shrug. "She a sweet kid who deserves a little break herself." House agreed.

"You know, I should make you pick up the tab for tonight," House said as he brought his leg down off the seat of the booth.

"Why?"

"Because you're the one who turned this into an emotional lollapalooza and for that, a price must be paid." Wilson stood and gathered up the food.

"Was it really such a terrible thing?" Wilson asked. "I was hoping it did the both of us a lot of good." House rose from the booth with his cane; he picked up the check and money.

"Next time, warn me," he said making his way to the register.

"Sorry. I would have been over sooner, but that guy was paying by credit card and it took time going through," Crystal said. "Everything was OK, I hope."

"We'll be back with the ladies in our lives and my lady's kids, if that's any indication of how things were," House said. "When we return, the kids will love the game room, for sure."

"The biggest one most of all," Wilson said indicating House with his head. Crystal laughed as House handed her the money.

"Thanks, let me get your change…" She was confused by the bills that House handed her. Wilson noticed it was even more than they had pulled out at the table. House had added two more twenties. "I'm sorry, it's been a long day and I'm not doing a good job with the math, despite the fact that's one of my majors."

"The price of text books has gone up exponentially since we went to medical school," said House. "That probably won't even buy half of one, but maybe it'll help." Crystal was dumbfounded.

"I…I really shouldn't accept this," she said looking over her shoulder nervously.

"There's no reason why you shouldn't. You made a very pleasant evening for us," Wilson said. "What nights do you work, so we can co-ordinate bringing the rest of the crew in? We think the kids would love you." Crystal smiled.

"I work Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday," she replied.

"Doesn't leave much time for a social life," Wilson said. Crystal waved her hand dismissively.

"There are three other nights in the week."

"Touché," House said with a smile. "Have a good night."

"Thanks, you too," Crystal said.

"Bye," Wilson said. He and House left Gino's and headed to Wilson's car.

"That was very nice of you, adding the extra money in." Wilson looked at House, who didn't reply right away.

"She's busting her butt, not just for herself, but for her brother. I never had a brother I could share or do anything with." House looked at Wilson carrying the food. "If you didn't have those things in your hands, you probably would have done the same thing. So consider that I did it on behalf of the guy who does a really great imitation of a brother." House turned and looked at Wilson as he put the take home items in the trunk. Wilson kept his head bent down as he closed the lid. "Hey, do me a favor…pick you head up or we're not going to get too far before we get into an accident." They walked over to their respective doors on the car proper.

"House?" House knew what was coming, but he looked across the roof of the car anyway. "Thanks."

"Don't expect it all the time," said House as he opened the car door. "I happen to be in a really good mood tonight."

"Could have fooled me," Wilson said half under his breath.

It took almost forty minutes to get home; it was nearly midnight, and Wilson was surprised to see the light on in the upstairs living room.

"I wonder what Lydia's doing up this late," he said.

"What's the matter? Doesn't your mother wait up for you to come home from a date, so she can try and drag all the gory details out of you?"

"My mother's not home right now," Wilson said sadly. House rolled his eyes.

"I'm not rocking you to sleep unless I can use real rocks," House said as he got out of the car. They entered the house, and turned off the outside lights.

"Hello," a voice called out softly.

"Hey, Fraulein," House answered. Lydia appeared at the top of the stairs.

"How are you two dirty rotten stay outs?" she asked with a smile. She and House greeted each other with a kiss.

"See, that's why you're carrying the food; I need my hands free to molest her," House said giving Lydia another kiss.

"I'm sorry we're late," Wilson said. "Didn't mean to keep you up."

"You didn't keep me up," Lydia said. "I was sitting in the living room working on this for Elise." She walked over to the couch and held up a crocheted pink, burgundy, and cream colored blanket; only it looked too small for her daughter.

"Fraulein, you do remember what the pediatrician said at her check-up for school? How tall she was and how much she weighed?" Housed asked eyeing the small blanket. Lydia gave him a look.

"This is for Molly's bed. I'm making one more appropriately sized for Elise's bed as well. I thought since Annie got them matching beds, I'd make matching blankets for Christmas presents."

"What a great idea," Wilson said. "Annie is so pleased at how Elise goes on and on about the fact that she and Molly have coordinated sleeping arrangements."

"And matching nightgowns after we visited the American Girl Store in New York City," Lydia said putting her arm around House.

"Well, you girls had to do something while Tom, Wilson and I took Ben to the Monster Truck Rev-a-Thon for his birthday," House said.

"I know the truck show was Saturday, and this is only Monday, but he cannot stop talking about any of it," Lydia said. "He almost got in trouble in school because he wouldn't be quiet." House put his head down and smiled.

"I'm glad both kids had a good time," he said. He turned, and started to head down the hall to the bedroom.

"Turning in, House?" Wilson asked quietly, so as not to wake the children.

"Going to see a man about a horse," said House," then yeah, I'm heading to bed."

"OK…thanks for coming out tonight." House stopped and looked over his shoulder at Wilson.

"You looked at me with those pathetic, sad, puppy dog eyes…how could I say no?"

"Good night, House," Wilson said laughing. House waved his hand and made a left into the bedroom. When Wilson heard the door close, he gestured with his head for Lydia to follow him into the kitchen. He put the food he was still holding on the counter and turned to Lydia.

"How did tonight go?" she whispered.

"So-so. It was…revealing on both sides. I'm sure he'll tell you my deep dark secret someday soon, so I'm not even going into it." Wilson took a deep breath. "He doesn't want to have to operation. He doesn't foresee an outcome any different than the last time." Lydia was shocked.

"When I brought it up yesterday, he told me he was still thinking it over. What changed?" Wilson looked down at the floor.

"He lied to you." Wilson saw the look on Lydia's face and realized he should clarify the statement. "He's probably lying to himself as well when he says that. He may have been just…putting on an act when he was telling me no way was he doing it. That's the problem when things get tough with House; you don't know how to read him." Lydia looked confused and desperate.

"Doesn't he realize that the players are different this time? There's no crazed group of surgeons; Chase and Foreman will do the operation. Tom will be in there, you could be in there…hell, if I was allowed, I would go in! Doesn't he believe me when I tell him that I won't let anything happen to him or his leg?" It broke Wilson's heart to see the look on her face, and to tell her what he knew she was already aware of.

"Stacy promised him the same thing, Lydia. We know now that the decisions that she and Cuddy made were based on lies that they were fed." Wilson shook his head. "I'm just…not sure what you can do to make things better. I'm sorry." He went over to Lydia and gave her a hug; he could feel her shaking as she cried. "Hey, don't let him see you like that. I'm sure he's already figured out we're talking about him." Lydia pushed away from Wilson, and wiped her tears with a napkin that she grabbed from the counter.

"This kind of talk couldn't have made for a very pleasant night for you; I'm sorry." Wilson smiled.

"Actually, we sort of made a breakthrough in our friendship that was long overdue. It…it was a good night."

"Good, I'm glad something went well. Are you staying here tonight?"

"Yeah, I'm too tire to drive home. Besides, Annie's pillow smells like her; it'll get me through until tomorrow. Everything's locked up downstairs." Lydia smiled at him, glad in a way that he missed Annie that much.

"Thank you, James. Have a good night." They gave each other a kiss and a hug, then Wilson made his way down to Annie's place. Lydia began to tidy up. She put her crocheting away, put the food the guys brought home from the pizza place in the fridge, with exception of the garlic knots, which were still warm. Lydia checked the lock on the door to the deck, shut the lights in the kitchen and the living room, and then made her way down the hall to the master bedroom. She could hear the water running in the bathtub; House must be planning on soaking his leg. Given the late hour, it must really be hurting him…or it's the perfect excuse to avoid discussing what he and Wilson talked about. Lydia sat down on the bed and closed her eyes.

"Greg, I know you trust me with your life," she said quietly, knowing he wouldn't hear her over the running water. "What do I need to do to get you to trust me with your leg?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Life and Limb"

Chapter Two – "Shooting from the Hip"

By: Purpleu

The rain pounded down on the roof, and in the distance a roll of thunder could be heard. It was unusual, but not unheard of for there to be a thunderstorm in early October in New Jersey. Whether it was the echo of the thunder or the pouring rain, Lydia slowly woke up and became aware of the unsettled weather. She picked her head up and looked at the clock; it was almost four A.M.

"Storm wake you up? Or did you suddenly become aware of my manly presence?" Lydia smiled and turned from her left side to her right to face House.

"Well, since I'm always aware of your manly presence, it must have been the storm," she said. "I'm sorry I fell asleep before you finished taking your bath. Then again, I'm not so sure you wanted me to be awake when you were done." Lydia sat up, moved her pillows over closer to him, and nestled herself into his body. House put his arm around her; he was always glad to have their bodies touching, he just wasn't sure he was going to be happy about the ensuing conversation.

"So what did Wilson tell you when you two were gossiping about me in the kitchen?" House asked. "I know it was about me, because a certain part of my anatomy was burning."

"And I missed it," Lydia said, pretending to pout. House glanced over at her; even the most difficult of subjects was easy to discuss with Lydia. He might as well dive in head first.

"Wilson told you we talked about my leg, I'm sure."

"Yes, and I have to admit I'm confused. Sunday night, you hadn't made up your mind; you wanted to take your time thinking things over, which I thought was a good idea. Monday…there's no way in hell you're having the operation. What changed?"

"The day of the week, the weather," House said flippantly. "I don't know why I said what I did to Wilson. Or why I said what I did to you. I haven't had sufficient time to consider how my leg came to be in the state it's in, never mind what future mayhem may come to it."

"I think the important thing to remember is that you're in charge of what happens to it this time," Lydia said, placing her hand on his right shoulder and massaging it gently. "It's your call."

"Funny, I thought I was the one making the decisions last time."

"I know this is hard for you. Hearing what happened to your leg, having fairly definitive proof that it was deliberate…I can't even pretend to say that I understand what it feels like. But you've got to try and let go of what people did to you in the past, focus on what's happening now, and the possibilities for the future," she said.

"Really?" House asked, his voice taking on a bitter tone. "Because it seems to me what happened in the past has a direct correlation to the hell I'm going through in the present. And have been going through for the last fifteen years or so."

"If it will make you feel better, I'll say again what we've both said before: Cuddy and Stacy had no right to wait until you were in the medical coma to make any decisions for you. Even ignoring the fact that the information they had was a lie, you had been out for less than ten minutes. They could have awakened you, and you could have made the call. As far as the surgeons are concerned, I'm not sure what could have been done about them."

"Let's see…maybe Cuddy should've been a better administrator and kicked their incompetent asses out to the street sooner so I wouldn't have gotten on their bad side. Oh, yeah, maybe I could've pointed out to her that she was looking at a scan of a left leg, not a right. And no matter what, it wasn't even my leg," House said, calming down now that he had blown off some steam. "Mine are prettier." Lydia had to look away from House so she could keep her reaction to just a chuckle, and not a full blown laugh. When she finally did look back, she was pleased to see a slight smile on his face. "Are you telling me you disagree?" he asked pretending to be insulted.

"Quite the contrary. You have extremely muscular, sexy legs; even your right one."

"Thanks, I guess. Somehow including my right leg in a sentence that has the words 'muscular' and 'sexy' seems to be an oxymoron." Lydia let her hand drop down from House's shoulder and ran it along his torso to his leg. She began to lightly massage his leg around the scar area without touching the center. Tom had worked House hard on some new exercises that morning, and he told her on the QT that this was the best way to ease the pain for House.

"If you ask me, I think that all of you is muscular and sexy; but I suppose my opinion doesn't count." House reached over with his free arm and brought it around Lydia. He pulled her in closer, kissing her gently as he did.

"Your opinion means everything to me." House let out a disgusted sigh. "Sorry if I got intense before." Lydia gave him a kiss, and brought her hand up from his leg to his cheek.

"Greg, I don't blame you for feeling hurt, angry, betrayed…but you can't keep your feelings bottled up and let them eat away at you, any more than you've already done all these years. You've allowed those bastards to keep…crippling you, physically and emotionally, the longer you allow their damage to fester. It's only been a few weeks, but you are a stronger person than those cowards. They hid from what they did and ran away. You've fought it every day." Lydia took a deep breath. "I'm sorry; I guess I'm the one being a little intense now." She dropped her head down, and fought back tears. "The fact that there's something that can be done to bring you significant relief from the pain…more strength and freedom of movement…maybe even some peace of mind…I just want you to have the chance to take advantage of all resources available to you."

"The only things I have available is a hop up on the O.R. table and a surgeon's scalpel." House closed his eyes. "I'm afraid to go down that road again, afraid of what it would do to me…and to us if things don't go well." House glanced at Lydia and saw the hurt on her face. He knew she was the best resource he could have. There was a certain calmness that had settled on him since he started staying at her place, even with the kids around. Actually, he had begun to enjoy their company. They were smart, fun, thoughtful, and pushed the boundaries on things just far enough. Things were going pretty well, House admitted to himself…until, of course, he found out the truth about his leg. "Hey," he said placing his hand under Lydia's chin and bringing her head up until their eyes met. "You know if I didn't have you, I would have done something stupid to help me deal with this," he said indicating his leg. House looked away from Lydia as a flash of lighting lit up the room. "I shouldn't waste time figuring out the how and why of my leg, but it's what I instinctively do." House kissed the top of Lydia's head. "I'm trying to convince myself that it'll be OK to do the procedure; I owe it to you and the kids if we're going to have a chance at a future together."

"No, no," Lydia said pushing away from House slightly. "You owe this to yourself, first and foremost. We had time together at Mayfield, we've had the past couple of months here; but you're the one who has had to handle this emotionally and physically for years. It's time to have a break from the suffering." She moved back into House and nuzzled into his neck.

"I don't know why the hell you believe in me the way you do, but…I'm damned lucky that you do," he said. Lydia picked her head up and smiled.

"Well, that makes two of us; I think I'm pretty damned lucky, too." House got a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Since we've been…oh, let's use the term intimate…for a while now, think you can let me in on how you work some of the magic you do?"

"And what magic would that be?" Lydia asked as more lighting and another roll of thunder filled the room. House glanced at the window.

"Take the thunderstorm and your kids' lack of reaction to it. Most ducklings would come running in here crying 'Mama'; yours don't." House looked at Lydia curiously. "What's the secret?"

"You don't want to know," she said waving her hand.

"If I didn't want to know, I wouldn't have asked," House replied. Lydia moved away from him so she could see his reaction.

"I told them thunderstorms were the angels bowling." House gave her a horrified stare.

"No, you didn't. Your son, at least, is way too bright to buy into that load of hooey."

"Aahh! We've agreed to disagree on the subject of religion," Lydia said waving a finger at him. "And as far as the kids are concerned, thunder is the ball rolling down the alley, and the lightening happens when the angels get a strike." The room once again brightened.

"Talk about being high rollers," House quipped. Lydia started to giggle, and it got House to smile, too. He went to reposition himself to bring their bodies closer again, when a shot of pain went through his leg. Lydia saw him wince as he rolled back over on to his side of the bed.

"Greg," she said gently as she began to rub his leg again the way she had earlier. "I know Tom did some new work with you. He said you could take some Advil if you really needed it."

"I'd call this really needing it," House said as he swung his legs off the bed. "By the way, the bath earlier wasn't an avoidance tactic; he also suggested that to ease the aftereffects." He gingerly walked toward the door of the bedroom. "Your handy work helped, too." Lydia smiled; she was happy she was able to make him feel better.

"We have Advil in the bathroom, Hon; you don't have to go to the kitchen."

"I want something cold to drink; I'm killing two birds with one slingshot," House said continuing to make his way out of the room. "You want anything?"

"Are you getting water?" House nodded. "I'll just take a few sips of yours."

"Swap spit? Share our bodily fluids?" he said making a face.

"It's not like we haven't done it before," Lydia said as she went to pass him on her way into the bathroom. House reached out for her as she came near, and put his arm around her waist.

"While we're on the subject of wanting anything…" he said pulling her into him. House bent his head down to kiss Lydia, then snuggled into her neck. "I love you," House said quietly. Lydia pulled back a little so she could look up at him.

"I love you, too," she said stroking the back of his head.

"Lydia, it's not you I ever doubt…it's myself," House noted.

"Do us both a favor: don't," she said as she gave House another kiss. "Go get your Advil." House nodded and headed down the hall to the kitchen. He took two Advil out of the bottle, and reached into the refrigerator to grab the water. After downing the pills, he began to think over his conversation with Lydia; when the time came to do something about his leg, he knew she would be the major force behind his decision. House turned to make his way to the bedroom; a few steps down the hall, he became aware of a phone ringing. He reached the doorway just as Lydia was coming out of the bathroom.

"It's your cell," she said making her way to House's side of the bed.

"It's probably some drunken moron butt dialing," House said with a scowl.

"A long distance moron," Lydia said looking at the phone. "It's a seven-oh-three area code." House froze at the end of the bed.

"Answer it." Lydia was confused.

"What…"

"Answer it!" House barked. Startled, Lydia pushed a button on House's phone.

"Hello?" she said hesitantly. There was silence for a moment, then a male voice began to speak.

"Hello, dear. I'm sorry for a call at this hour, but I'm trying to reach Dr. Gregory House." The voice was of an older man with a thick Scottish brogue.

"May I ask who's calling?" Lydia normally wouldn't question any phone call House got; then again, she never usually answered his phone.

"Reverend Thomas Bell; I'm a friend of the family." This could not possibly be good, Lydia thought.

"Reverend Bell," she said quietly as she handed the phone to House. He closed his eyes and nodded as he sat down on the bed.

"Yeah," House said curtly.

"Greg, lad…this is Reverend Bell, your parents' friend."

"I think you were a bit more my mom's friend than my dad's," sniped House.

"Yes, that would be true," Bell said with some reservation. "Son…I've been wanting to call you for a while now. I know you called a month or so ago and your mother never called you back. Don't feel bad; she's done that to me many a time over the years."

"I don't feel bad at the lack of communication between my mother and me. That's been an ongoing issue that at this point in my life, I couldn't give a crap about." House took a deep breath. "I don't think you're calling at this hour to beg my forgiveness for my mother's lack of social graces…what's going on?"

"I had to call nine-one-one to take your mother to the hospital. I'm afraid she's had a stroke." House hung his head down, and looked away from Lydia who had sat down next to him on the bed.

"I'm putting you on speaker," he said. "The feminine voice you heard earlier was that of my girlfriend. She's not a doctor, but she should be." House turned on the speaker and put the phone on the bed.

"Hello, Reverend Bell…my name is Lydia Strohman. It's nice to finally speak to you; I just wish it was under better circumstances."

"Thank you, dear. I detect an accent; are you from Germany, Austria…?"

"Germany. I was born there, but traveled around the world much like Greg did."

"Was your father in the military?"

"No, he was part of the diplomatic offices."

"I hate to interrupt this little getting-to-know-you," House said, "but I actually would like to ask a few questions about my mother. What side of the brain had the hemorrhage?"

"The right has an aneurism, I believe they said," Bell said. "There was some very minor leakage on the left, but that's not the doctors' main area of concern."

"Is she conscious?"

"She drifts in and out, but more often than not, no. She responds to nothing on the left side. The dear was able to mouth the words 'call Greg.'" The last thing House expected was his mother to even think of him.

"What hospital is she in?" Lydia asked.

"Arlington Medical Center," Bell replied. "Luckily her primary care doctor, cardiologist, and neurologist are all located here."

"Why does she have a cardiologist and neurologist?" House asked a bit annoyed. "What's gone on in her life in the past fifty years or so that I don't know about?"

"Two years ago, she had some shortness of breath and some chest pains when we returned home from a meeting…"

"Meeting? You mean a protest of some kind. I assume that's still a biggie with her," noted House. He got up from the bed, and despite the discomfort in his leg, he began to pace.

"Yes…yes, that is still her passion; fighting for the ones who can't speak for themselves." House scoffed.

"Couldn't have proven that by me."

"What did the cardiologist find?" inquired Lydia. She could tell House was more interested in dredging up the past; she thought it best that someone got the important information out.

"He found minor blockages in two arteries; no stents were necessary. She's on medication for it."

"And the neurologist?" House asked.

"A month or so ago, she started having sharp pains in her right temple. I forget what the doctor suspected it was…"

"Tri-gametal neuralgia," Lydia interrupted.

"Yes, that's it," Bell said quickly. "Never did say if that was related to the stroke, but I must say dear, for someone who's not a doctor, you surely know your stuff."

"A first year med student would know that," House said coldly.

"Which I practically am," countered Lydia. She wanted to kick herself for bothering to answer House's comment. He was upset; this news coming on top of the revelation about his leg was the worst thing that could happen. He was going to go into "push away" mode, for sure.

"The doctors say she is stable; I heard her fall on the floor in the bathroom and called for help as soon as I got to her. She never stopped breathing or lost her heart beat, so they say things are as good as can be expected. Your mother did tap her head off the sink; they're keeping a close eye on that." House looked grim as he paced the room. The situation wasn't immediately life threatening, but for a woman in her seventies, it wasn't good news.

"With all the privacy laws on the books today, I won't be able to talk to her doctors without your approval. So, I'd appreciate it…"

"Dr. Selby, her primary and Dr. Borden her neurologist, knew your name right away. They said they'd be happy to…"

"Look, you don't get it. If they don't want to find themselves wasting money on lawyers rather than making money in the hospital, they can't talk to anyone but her health care proxy…"

"And that's you, son. After your father died, she changed her papers to have your name on them." House was surprised by the news.

"My head was a little foggy back then," he admitted looking at Lydia. "But I would have thought that your name would have been on the important things by now, whether living in sin or burdened by the yoke of matrimony." Reverend Bell let out a sigh.

"Greg, your mother and I got married…two months after John died. I…"

"Wow, so you waited until the body was cold, but the worms and maggots hadn't feasted yet. Tell me, why did you buy the cow when you were getting the milk for free?" Lydia reminded herself that House was _very_ upset.

"I begged your mother for years to leave your father," Bell said his voice rising. "I wanted her to take you out of that environment the two of you were in and I wanted to give you a better, kinder life than you had." House was quiet as he sat back down on the bed.

"What the hell stopped you?" he finally asked.

"She did. I don't know what he had over her, but she wouldn't leave him. Blythe was miserable and she buried her pain in her activism."

"Leaving me to fend for myself against him. Even when I did exactly what he wanted, it wasn't good enough for him," House said staring down at the rug. "I was All-American in soccer and lacrosse; I was in the top one-percent of my class through high school, college, med school…yet he wouldn't come to any of my graduations…"

"I was there," Bell said. "I was there when you graduated all three."

"Did you have your invisibility cloak on? Because I don't remember seeing you there."

"I stayed out of sight at your mother's request. There were several of the other Marine officers around; they also had kids graduating. She didn't want any talk," Bell said, his voice cracking with emotion, "Why, when John could have made an appearance, at the proudest moments for you, he declined to be there, I will never understand."

"Maybe because I wasn't _his_ son," House said.

"Greg, I know you've thought that for years, but he…"

"He was incapable of procreating. He had the mumps when he was twenty; it left him sterile."

"What? No, no, Greg; you've got it all wrong, lad. You were premature…."

"No, I was not. You've probably never seen my mother's medical records, but I showed up exactly forty weeks after her last period." Bell was heard taking audible breaths through the phone.

"How…how could she do this? How could she lie to me? To you?" House looked up at the ceiling as the rain began to pour again.

"Because despite the lustrous black hair and porcelain skin, she ain't Snow White…except maybe for the part about the seven dwarfs." House let out a tired sigh. "Is one of her doctors there that I can speak to?"

"Both Selby and Borden are here," Bell said in a weary voice. "They said to call them at any time." Lydia crawled over to her side of the bed and grabbed her phone off the nightstand.

"Give me a moment, Reverend Bell," Lydia said. "I'll copy them down, and then send them to you," she said to House. He nodded without returning her gaze. "Go ahead, Reverend." Bell read off the numbers to Lydia; she read them back for confirmation.

"I'm just outside your mother's room right now. It seems you can have cell phones almost anywhere nowadays. Did…did you want to talk to her? She might be awake."

"No, I don't think that would be a good idea," said House. "I don't know that your profession would approve of what I'd have to say. Especially my opinion of the phrase that says, 'Honor thy father and thy mother.'" There was silence in reply from Bell.

"Alright; I'll let you go and call the doctors," he said sadly.

"Reverend Bell, thank you so much for calling to let Greg…and me…know what's happening. I hope you'll keep us up to date. And please don't mind if," she looked quickly at House, "I call you once in a while."

"I don't mind at all," Bell said quietly. "That would be very lovely. Good night, dear." He paused. "Good night, Greg."

"Good night, Reverend Bell," said Lydia. House reached over and ended the call. She watched him as he sat hunched over, not looking at her. "I'm sending you the doctor's phone numbers now," she said. He nodded blankly as Lydia fiddled with her phone. "You've got them." House picked up his phone and rose from the bed. "At least it sounds like your mother is doing OK," Lydia offered. He looked down at her.

"D.I.L.L.A.G.A.R.A." Lydia didn't know how to react.

"Excuse me?"

"D.I.L.L.A.G.A.R.A. Do I look like I give a rat's ass?" House started to walk toward the end of the bed.

"Yes," Lydia said standing up. "As a matter of fact you do." House didn't move as Lydia came over to him.

"I'm going to call the doctors from the kitchen. Who knows how long I'll be on with them," House said looking at Lydia. It broke her heart to see the pain in his eyes.

"I'll wait up." House shook his head.

"You have class after work tomorrow; better get some sleep." He went to leave, when Lydia gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. He left the room without returning the gesture. Lydia went back to the bed, and crawled under the covers. She very softly began to cry; not for House's lack of response to her kiss. Rather, she was upset at the conflict she felt over House's mother. On the one hand, Lydia wanted Blythe to quickly recover; maybe there was some hope of salvaging the mother/son relationship. On the other hand, if Greg's mom quickly passed away, perhaps he'd finally be able to move on; maybe even establish a relationship with Reverend Bell. Somehow Lydia knew, no matter what she hoped for, House would only get hurt more. Lydia readjusted her pillows and fell into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, the sky was still gray, but the rain had stopped. House turned over several times trying to find a comfortable position, but to no avail. He heard Lydia and the kids in the kitchen having breakfast. The kids had to be at the bus stop at eight-fifteen; since it was now seven-thirty, he didn't have long to wait until he had the house to himself. This was one of the times he was grateful that the school district had all day pre-kindergarten. His plan to stay in bed and avoid everyone was quickly unraveling, as the smell of freshly brewed coffee pounded at his olfactory senses. With great reluctance, he got up, and headed into the kitchen.

"Good morning," Lydia said quietly.

"Good morning, House," Elise said.

"Morning, House," Ben chimed in. Lydia still wasn't used to her children calling House by his last name. It was something she would have never been allowed to do in her youth, but these are different times, so she agreed to let them do it. It was less formal than "Dr. House."

"Morning," House replied without much enthusiasm. Elise climbed down from her stool by the counter extension and came over to House. She hugged him very gently around his legs, and looked up at him.

"I'm sorry your mommy is sick and in the hospital," she said. "I hope she gets better soon."

"Me, too," Ben said. Elise saw her mother, standing behind House, gesture for her to go back to her seat.

"What's the matter? No fascinating medical insight into my mother's medical condition?" House asked Ben. The boy was startled by House's tone; it was sarcastic in a nasty way, not the usual teasing banter that he and House exchanged.

"Well," Ben said hesitantly, "A stroke involves the brain and bleeding and people have trouble talking and moving after they have one." House nodded.

"If the bleeding is on the right side of the brain, what side of the body is effected?" Ben tapped his fingers on the counter as he thought about House's question. "Come on, you have a fifty/fifty shot at it," House said sharply.

"The left side," the boy answered quickly. He didn't know for sure, but felt he had to say something, or House would become even more annoyed with him.

"Lucky guess," he said dismissively as he reached for his coffee mug.

"House, are we going to make tacos tonight for dinner?" Elise asked. "Because you said last night…"

"I don't know if I'm even going to be in the mood to eat, never mind cook a meal," he snapped.

"But…we have to eat," the child replied. House closed his eyes. The tacos were a quick, easy meal, and the kids did enjoy both making and eating them. Besides, the girl was right.

"Yeah, sure. We'll time it so it's ready when your mom gets home from school." House realized he was out of line for acting the way he was toward the children. He was in a completely lousy mood, but it was wrong to take it out on them. He remembered it happening to himself way too many times.

"Are you guys finished eating?" Lydia asked looking at the clock on the microwave.

"I am," Elise said.

"Almost," Ben responded before putting another piece of waffle in his mouth.

"Let me have you dishes," Lydia said to her daughter. "Then brush your teeth. Are you wearing your hair in a ponytail or loose today?"

"Loose," the little girl replied.

"Alright, but you'll have to have someone help you put it up before soccer practice."

"I know," Elise said as she skipped down the hall to the bathroom.

"Wilson up yet?" House asked Lydia.

"Yes. He left early today since he and Foreman have to look over the quarterly figures I sent them last night. Plus, he's cutting out of work to see Annie when she gets home." House rolled his eyes.

"He's ridiculous," muttered House under his breath. Lydia shot him a look as Ben brought his dish and utensils to the sink.

"Thank you," Lydia said as Ben disappeared into his room to put his sneakers on. "What's wrong with James wanting to see Annie right after she gets home? This is the first time they've been apart overnight, and I guess he realizes just how much he misses her."

"Give me a break," House snapped. "If you and I were apart for a few nights, it wouldn't bother me." Lydia paused as she was about to close the dishwasher door.

"Thanks for the heads up," she said quietly, rinsing her hands and drying them on a towel. House walked over to one of the kitchen stools and sat down.

"So, how long?" House asked.

"How long what?" Lydia asked without looking over at him.

"How long are we going to last now that you're seeing the real me when things don't go well. And I'm not talking about misplacing my car keys." Lydia raised her eyebrows as she walked over to where House sat.

"The question really is: how long before you drive me crazy with your forgetful memory?" House gave her a puzzled look. "You know, the one that keeps forgetting that I said you were stuck with me until you callously toss me aside?" Lydia reached out and put her hand on his shoulder "This isn't the first time things have gone awry, and it won't be the last. We made it through Malcolm Hunter when we were still getting to really know each other, and lots of smaller things in between. This is a double whammy, but I have no doubt we'll get through this, too. I just hope you realize that the kids are doing and saying things because they truly want to make you feel better, not because of anything I told them to do. Elise wanted to make your mother a get well card this morning, but I told her there was no time now; maybe tonight." Lydia saw that House appeared to be less tense than when he entered the kitchen. "She was very surprised to find out your mother's name was Mrs. House, not House's Mommy."

"Think how surprised I was to hear it's Mrs. Bell," House said. "And that I have a stepfather."

"I forgot that Reverend Bell surprised us with that tidbit. I'll have to explain things to her tonight."

"Don't bother," House said as he took a sip of his coffee. "Just because my mother is her half step-grandmother once removed and never replaced, doesn't mean she has to make her a card." Lydia took the hand she had resting on House's shoulder, and moved it around to his back to embrace him in a hug. She was laughing as she replayed the title House gave his mother in her mind.

"I love it when you talk like that; it lets me know you're in a better mood."

"You sure about that?" House asked as he put his coffee cup on the counter and put his arms around Lydia. "There are many who would disagree," he pointed out.

"Oh, to hell with them," she replied. Lydia leaned forward to give House a kiss; unlike a few hours ago, he responded in kind. Happy to be making up for last night, they lost track of the time.

"Uh…Mom?" Ben asked reluctantly.

"Shhh! Leave them alone; they're kissy-facing," Elise said in a loud whisper.

"Oh, brother," Ben said shaking his head. Both Lydia and House had to laugh at the kids' different reactions to catching the adults "in the act."

"I know, it's time to head to the bus stop," Lydia said turning away from House. "You can wait in the driveway while I get my bag and keys; then I'll walk you to the corner."

"Bye, House," they said together. The two ran down the stairs, opened the front door and headed outside. Mere seconds later, Ben came running back in.

"Forgot my library book," he said running to his room.

"Another medical book?" House asked as Ben rushed past the kitchen. The boy stopped and backed up.

"Nope; a Sherlock Holmes book," he said holding up "A Scandal in Bohemia." "I'm going to take out 'The Red-Headed League' next."

"Good choice," House said. Ben smiled at House's kinder tone.

"Ben, get back outside to your sister, please; she's too little to be outside alone," Lydia noted. Her son raced downstairs and rejoined Elise. Lydia walked into the dining room and grabbed her purse and laptop carrying bag from the table. "Are you up to coming into work today?" she asked House.

"I might as well; I can be miserable here or miserable there. There, at least, I may find a new case to distract me."

"Very true," Lydia said as she fished out her keys. "I guess I'll see you later." House looked out the dining room window; despite the circumstances, he felt the calmness that had come to him more and more frequently. Damn! How does she do it?

"I love you," he said as he looked back to her. He thought she was absolutely beautiful as she smiled.

"I love you, too," Lydia said as she gave House a kiss. She hurried down the stairs and joined the kids in the driveway. House went to the living room window and watched as the three of them headed to the corner. See how good it feels when you open up and let people in; think about how much you've been hurt when you have opened up to people in the past. It was a dichotomy that was never going to leave him alone. House looked down and saw Lydia wave to the bus; she got in the car and headed over to the hospital. He wasn't ready to go there just yet.

Around ten, House finally showed up at work. In one way, he hoped Lydia had clued in the usual suspects about the situation with his mother; the other part of him didn't want to talk about it. As he stopped at the reception desk to sign in, he cringed as the first salvo was fired.

"Hey, House." House turned and saw Wilson and Foreman approaching him; if Wilson knew, Foreman knew, owing to Wilson's inability to keep his mouth shut.

"Sorry to hear about your mother. Any news?" Wilson asked.

"I spoke to her primary and neurologist around five; caught up with her cardiologist around eight-thirty," House replied as they moved away from the desk. "Things appear to be stable for now. They're doing an assortment of tests and scans during the course of the day. I'll get a call when they have a more cohesive picture and treatment plan"

"A cardiologist and neurologist?" Foreman questioned. "I wasn't aware that your mother had any health issues in those areas."

"Neither was I. I also didn't know I had a stepfather."

"I know you were probably very taken back," Wilson said, "but you've got to admit, it is sort of sweet that after all these years…"

"You mean after all these years of sneaking around, they can finally hold hands in public? They waited only two months after my father died to get married." Wilson and Foreman looked shocked.

"Lydia…didn't mention that," Foreman said uncomfortably.

"Normally, I wouldn't either; I'm trying Fraulein's suggestion of not letting things eat me up, which in theory, would make me a happier, kinder, gentler person." House started to walk to the elevators. "I didn't have the heart to tell her, 'In your dreams and not even there.'" Foreman and Wilson exchanged looks as House pushed the call button for the elevator.

"House, do you want to head down to her? You know you can take all the time you want. Most of your absences have been for medical reasons, so you have plenty of time due you," Foreman pointed out.

"I'd take all the time I wanted whether it was due me or not. However, I have no plans to go down to see her. She's got the dear Reverend to pray for her recovery." The elevator doors opened; the three men stepped aside to let out the passengers. "Besides, she never ran to my side when I needed her; I plan on responding in the same manner." House entered the elevator and found he was quickly joined by Wilson.

"I'll meet you in the conference room in a few minutes," he said to Foreman as the doors closed. House let out a sigh as he pushed the button for the fourth floor.

"You're not going to follow me all the way to my office are you? Because I think that would be more than a little awkward for both of us."

"No, I have to get something out of my office up here," replied Wilson. He looked over at House with concern. "Are you sure you're OK? Because, you know if you need anything…"

"Please don't start with a torrent of emotions on this subject; I think we did enough of that last night," House said as he stepped off the elevator when it reached their floor.

"And you're complaining?" Wilson asked. "House, if you need to talk, just let me know. I mean anytime…" House looked down the hall to his office.

"Does that 'anytime' include…oh, say an hour or so after Annie gets home today?" Wilson opened his mouth, then closed it and smiled.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact it does." House was now the one who smiled.

"Thanks, but Lydia seems to have me under control."

"She's…very good at that," Wilson said. "By the way, did she show you the numbers the billing department brought in last quarter?"

"No, that wasn't part of our pillow talk last night; how did she do?"

"Phenomenally. There was a twenty-one percent increase in payments, including accounts that were written off long ago. It…it was very impressive." House smirked.

"Foreman turn white when he saw the numbers?" Wilson gave House a look.

"Foreman was blown away. I think coming up, the board is going to have quite a problem on its hands. From a couple of things he's said just today, I'm getting the feeling he wants to go back to being just a doctor, the way I do." House nodded.

"Think he wants back on the team, or is he going to try and be me at another hospital?"

"I'm pretty sure he wants back in with your team. All we'd have to do is justify the cost of another person," Wilson pointed out.

"If Fraulein keeps going the way she is now, finding extra money in the budget won't be an issue," House said with a smile.

"Very true." Wilson looked at his watch. "I've got to get downstairs; we're presenting Lydia's numbers and a bunch of financial reports to a few of the board members." Wilson turned and pushed the call button.

"Wilson, aren't you forgetting the 'thing' you needed to get from your office?" House questioned. Wilson gave House a smile.

"Nah; somehow I don't need it anymore. I'll talk to you before I leave for the day," Wilson said as he stepped into the elevator. House shook his head as the door to the elevator car closed. He headed for his office dreading the next group of inquisitors: his team. As he glanced into the conference room, Chase, Thirteen, and Taub were ready to pounce.

"Good morning, all," House said as he put his backpack in his office. "Let's play a game of Mad Libs." He walked over to the white board and picked up the marker. House wrote a series of words and phrases on the board, then turned to his team.

"My mother had a…" House pointed to the word "stroke" on the board. "It was on the …" He once again pointed to the board and the phrase "right side."

"House, this would be a lot easier if you just gave us the condensed version of what happened," Chase said.

"But it's so much more annoying to you guys this way. Which delights me to no end."

"House, come on," said Thirteen.

"OK, but you're taking away a wounded man's bullet to bite on." As he got a cup of coffee, House filled in the appropriate details on his early morning phone call, including the fact that he wasn't heading down to Virginia.

"You know we can handle things here if you wanted to go see her," said Chase.

'Why would I want to do that? It's not going to make me feel any better. Finding a new case, now that's the cure for what ails me."

"We haven't finished opening the mail for the day, but so far, no letters making a desperate plea for our help." Taub said. "The E.R. and the clinic didn't have anything happening in either place this morning. We were going to check again after we finish the mail and have lunch." House considered the options, which were few.

"Lydia's busy most of the morning and early afternoon, but she texted me to meet her in 'Sloppy Joe's', otherwise known as the cafeteria, for a late lunch. You take the early afternoon sweep, I'll take the late day run at our usual sources for fun patients with weird diseases." The team agreed, and House went into his office to look over the mail from yesterday. He was always a minimum of a day behind with it, but it didn't matter since he threw most of it out anyway. There were a few items of interest to him; the monthly news bulletin from the CDC among them. Surprisingly, the hours went by quickly, and soon it was time to meet Lydia. House headed down to the lobby and found Lydia waiting for him outside the cafeteria.

"Do you really want to eat something from this advertisement for ptomaine poisoning? We could take a walk and get something that would actually pass for food," House suggested.

"I can't," Lydia said, looking disappointed. "I have a conference call with a former patient and their insurance company in half an hour; I'd never make it."

"OK, I'll suffer through this just for you," House said. "Now if only a case would come rolling in here, I'd actually be doing something to help distract me." Lydia looked at House sympathetically.

"Have you heard anything from the doctors?" she asked as they walked into the cafeteria.

"Not since earlier this morning; they…"

"Hey, guys!" House and Lydia turned around to see Wilson running toward them.

"Quick, hide!" House said as he stood behind Lydia and ducked down.

"Very funny, House. I bet you did that to the other kids all the time in school," Wilson said as he shook his head.

"Yeah, but at least the other kids laughed at the joke," House said putting on a puss.

"What's up?" Lydia asked Wilson.

"Annie just called and said she's getting home earlier than she thought, so I'm getting out of here now. Oh, did she text you about dinner tomorrow night?" House looked more than a little unhappy as Lydia glanced at him.

"Yes, she did, but I haven't had the chance to talk to Greg about it; I've been busy this morning."

"Busy doing great work," Wilson noted. Lydia smiled and turned to House.

"Annie wanted to try that new Thai restaurant that opened last month. We've all talked about it, but we've never gotten over there. She…she thought you'd might enjoy the place and it would give you a little break. She was thinking about going tomorrow night."

"Are we talking about the Thai restaurant that opened on Franklin Avenue and very boringly calls itself, 'Frankly Thai?'" House asked.

"The one in the same," Lydia answered. House looked away from Wilson and Lydia for a moment.

"Tell the songbird, if it wasn't for her excellent taste in cuisine, the answer would have been no. But what the hell…I'll get the chance to let someone else play designated driver again." Lydia was about to say something, when House interrupted her. "Don't; he already lectured me last night," House said indicating Wilson.

"I'll see if we need reservations," Lydia said. "Is around seven good?"

"Sounds great," Wilson said. "I've got to go; I want to pick up some flowers. See you tomorrow." Wilson turned and practically ran out of the building. House gave Lydia a look.

"Don't you dare make a comment," she said to him warningly. "I think he's being very sweet."

"You would," House countered. Lydia, who had been walking in front of House, turned around and very quickly stuck her tongue out at him. She turned back around and headed for the food line. When they got there, House very subtlety put his arm around her waist. "What have I always told you? Don't stick that tongue out unless you intend on using it." Lydia grabbed a salad from the display and turned to look at House.

"And as I always say, I just did." Lydia saw the slightest smile on House's face as she reached for a bottle of water; that and the salad were the only two things on her tray. House's, of course, was piled with food of all sorts.

"Boy, you're a cheap date," he said as he paid for their food.

"I'll make up for it tomorrow night," she promised. Glancing at her watch, she made a face. "I've got to get back to my office; I'm sorry."

"You need help with that?" House asked as he set his tray down on a table.

"No, I'll be fine." Lydia gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be home about six-thirty," she said.

"Go make this place some more money so I can hire Foreman back," he said. Lydia gave House a puzzled look. "I'll explain it later," he said. Lydia shrugged and left the cafeteria. House glanced at his watch; it was a little after three. At this point, he wasn't sure he wanted to get involved in a case. He was picking the kids up from soccer practice at five-thirty; a case right now would be a problem. House decided to take his time eating, maybe close his eyes and take a nap. In a bit, House arose and took a quick walk through the clinic and the E.R.; no promising signs anywhere. At five o'clock, he left to pick up the kids.

'Hi, House," Elise said as she got in the car. Nancy, one of the coaches for the soccer club came over with Ben.

"Hello, how are you?" she asked.

"Fine," House replied, not looking to get into a long conversation.

"Good, good," Nancy answered. "Ben had a fall during practice and scraped his knee up a bit. We washed it out and covered it, but he reassured me that you'd know best how to handle it," she said with a smile.

"No problem, thanks," House replied. When they got home, he saw that the scrape was nothing, not even the size of a half dollar. After washing up, the kids set the table while House prepped the vegetables for the tacos. He had the kids place each item into a compartment dish that Lydia had, and with their "super-duper teamwork" as the kids called it, everything was ready when Lydia came home.

It was a quiet evening, just what House needed. Elise and Lydia finished the card for his mother, and Ben asked House to listen to him read the new Holmes book out loud. House had done this before, and never minded the activity; Ben changed his voice for the different characters which made him entertaining to listen to. After the kids were in bed, House and Lydia sat on the couch, each with a glass of wine. Lydia found a Muddy Waters concert on the radio that had the Rolling Stones as special guests. It was the perfect thing to get House to relax. By eleven-thirty, they were both in bed and asleep.

Hump day proved to bring not even a hint of a new case for House and his team. He resorted to helping the team go through the mail to keep his mind occupied; the news from his mother's doctors didn't thrill him. Around ten-thirty, Wilson stopped by the conference room.

"HI, how's everyone doing?" he asked, his happiness at having Annie home more than a little evident. "How's your mom, House?"

"They confirmed the aneurism and a few small vessels that ruptured bilaterally. The pressure on her brain has increased, so they're going to be placing a shunt in her head to relieve it," House answered as he opened some of the envelopes with far more force than necessary.

"House, are you…sure you don't want…"

"Don't even bother," Thirteen said. "We've been trying to talk him into going down there all morning." Wilson dropped his head down and threw his hands up in the air.

"You're sure…" he began to say. House suddenly rose from the table.

"Like Thirteen said, don't even bother." He grabbed his cane and stormed out of the room.

"We may have been a little too insistent with him before you came in," Chase said "It's strange, but…it feels like we're deal with the House we knew before Lydia came on the scene."

"You can't expect her to fix everything," Wilson noted. "Imagine what she's dealing with right now." Surprisingly, Lydia wasn't getting too much flak from House; probably because she knew not to push too hard. At lunchtime, Lydia managed to convince him to take a walk with her, and sit on a bench in one of the more park-like settings on the hospital property.

"I forgot to show this to you last night. I found it Monday when I was straightening things up," Lydia said. She took out her phone, pushed some buttons and handed it to House. As rotten as he felt, he managed a smile when he saw the image. It was a head shot of the two of them, taken when House was still at Mayfield.

"Did you ever think things would turn out the way they have when you took this?" House asked handing the phone back to her. Lydia smiled.

"I hoped." House was going to argue her statement, but he didn't have the energy. He just put his arm around her, and rested his head against hers. In a little while, they started to make their way back into the hospital.

"Well, at least in a bit, you'll have something to keep you amused," Lydia said as they entered the lobby.

"Yeah, you on clinic duty is always amusing. Mainly because you're still amazed at the idiots we get in there. I look at it as proof that IQ tests should be required before anyone can breed." Lydia shook her head and gave House a quick kiss. Clinic time came up quickly for House, Taub and Lydia. There were two other doctors, besides the three of them, handling the afternoon shift; Wilson was there to oversee things. Most of the cases were of the usual variety; gallbladder attack, premature labor. But there were also a share of oddball cases, and somehow, Lydia seemed to wind up with all of them.

"I swear, you do this to me deliberately," she said returning a patient's folder to the department desk.

"What's the matter?" Wilson asked, obviously trying not to laugh. House was standing next to him, doing his best to look innocent. "As you can see, the waiting room is empty, and the honor of the last patient is yours."

"Get this guy to leave ASAP and we can head to dinner. The other two docs are gone and Taub is finishing up with his last dingbat," House said as he handed her the file.

"What's this guy's problem?"

"His left calf is deflated." Lydia did a double take.

"Deflated?" she questioned. "Oh, you are going to pay for this."

"Marianne and Tom have the kids tonight; I'll make it up to you later," House said with a wicked grin. Lydia headed to the room where the man was waiting as Taub stopped by the desk.

"Did you give her another weird case?" he asked.

"Only because she knows it means I think she can handle it," replied House.

"I'm glad you're so sure she thinks that way," Wilson said. "Because if…" There was a loud bang as the door to the room where Lydia was slammed open.

"Code Blue! I need a crash cart and a cooling blanket, stat!" Lydia yelled.

"I'll get the crash cart," Wilson said.

"I'll get the cooling blanket," Taub said. House set off Chase's and Thirteen's beepers and hurried into the room where Lydia was; he saw the patient convulsing, with Lydia doing her best to keep him on the table.

"What happened?"

"He's running a one-oh-four point six fever. I was trying to take his blood pressure when he seized. The leg must be infected." As House helped her control the guy, he looked down at the leg; there was nothing there but what appeared to be a healing sore from poison ivy. Wilson and Taub came running into the room with Chase and Thirteen right behind them.

"His brain is frying," House called out. "Get the blanket on him." Everyone rapidly worked together, each taking care of a different thing to keep the man from dying. Thirty minutes later, things had calmed down, and the patient was sent up to I.C.U. with House's team in tow.

"In the conference room in five," House called after them.

"Well," Lydia said, "I guess you've got your case." House nodded.

"_We've_ got a case; he's your patient. Were you able to get anything out of him before he seized?"

"Not much, but it might help." House looked at Wilson, who had given Foreman a quick call to let him know what was going on.

"Let's do it this way; you go pick up Annie and get a table at the restaurant. Since we didn't need reservations, who knows what we'll hit." Wilson nodded. "You," House said to Lydia, "Come upstairs with me, tell the team what you know. They're going to be doing blood work and scans the rest of the night. You can go with Taub tomorrow to check out the guy's house. You'll only be stuck here ten minutes or so, then you can join them," he said indicating Wilson. "I'll stay just a little longer to see if anyone claims this guy. Family can be helpful, or the biggest obstacle. I want to see what this one is."

"Sound like a plan," Wilson said. "Oh, Foreman says the restaurant is great."

"A valued recommendation," House said. Wilson left to get Annie, while Lydia went upstairs to tell the team the little she knew; the man is both a professional and volunteer firefighter, and a month ago, he had poison ivy. One week ago, his calf started to lose strength and tone. They got a call from the I.C.U. that the man's wife was there, so Lydia left to meet Annie and Wilson while House got a feel for how the case would go. Twenty minutes later, House was heading for the lobby; his team could handle things for now. He wanted to get to the restaurant and enjoy it, since he had the feeling he was going to be busy in the upcoming days.

House stopped to sign out; he put his backpack on the floor and rested his cane against the counter. He was about to pick up both items when…

"HOUSE!" He turned to see Foreman running from his office. He didn't stop, but continued to move as he spoke. "There's been a shooting outside Frankly Thai. An ambulance is bringing in a man and two women." House watched as Foreman disappeared, stunned by what he said. Not even bothering to grab his cane, House did the best he could to run. He fell, and cursed as he got himself back up. House continued stumbling along the hall, becoming angrier by the minute that he couldn't run at full tilt.

House fell again as he crashed through the doors of the E.R.; he pulled himself up and looked to the ambulance bay. He saw Foreman helping Annie down out of the vehicle. There was blood splattered all over her, and she was yelling.

"NO! NO! OH PLEASE, GOD, NO!" Annie screamed. There was a stretcher out of the ambulance, but with the crowd around it, House couldn't see who was on it. As he limped closer, he realized there was one person lying down, and one person on their knees between the prone person's legs.

"BP is sixty-four over thirty four; we need two units of O positive blood stat!"

As House's brain processed things, it all became painfully clear…

The voice he heard was Lydia's.

Wilson was the one who was shot.


	3. Chapter 3

"Life and Limb"

Chapter Three – "Knee-Jerk Reaction"

By: Purpleu

"Make that two units of O Negative! Repeat, O Negative!" House yelled out as he came alongside the stretcher. He saw that Lydia was about to question him. "I don't have time to play mentor right now; unless blood type can be confirmed with absolute certainty, use O Negative."

"Universal donor," Lydia said as she put her head down.

"Where was he hit?" Chase asked.

"He has two in the femoral artery area, and one in the hip," Lydia replied. "The blood was pulsating out everywhere; I couldn't get it to stop at first." She began to softly cry.

"Are you hurt?" House asked.

"I'm fine," she said, but her voice belied her fear. House's team had appeared out of nowhere. He assumed that Foreman had paged them, not knowing whether it was Wilson and the ladies or not. Nurses from the E.R. began moving patients that were already on gurneys away from an area at the back of the room; one grabbed an empty stretcher and dropped the sides so Wilson could be transferred off the ambulance's stretcher.

"We're going to have to move him with Lydia on the sheets," Thirteen said. Foreman, who was off to the side with a crying Annie, came to the stretcher.

"You two, over here!" House called to two orderlies who were standing nearby. The stretchers were pushed together. With House, Forman and an orderly on one side, Chase, Taub and the other orderly on the other and Thirteen by Wilson's feet, they were ready to move Wilson and Lydia over together. "Count of three. One, two, three!" The transfer wasn't smooth; Lydia's hands were jostled as she and Wilson were moved, and some blood splattered onto her face. Fortunately, she thought to close her eyes and turn her head. House grabbed a sheet and took a corner to wipe Lydia's face off; he looked down at the bloodied sheets and tried to put out of his head the source of the red stains. He saw Foreman removing Wilson's shoes and socks and placing them in a patient's belongings bag. Wilson's pants had already been cut away; Lydia had reached up under his boxers to place her hand on the wound.

"Dropping the head and raising the feet," Taub called out as he manipulated the gurney. The move would keep more blood at the core of the body. The shirt Wilson wore was partially unbuttoned from the bottom; House grabbed the two sides, and popped the buttons to expose Wilson's chest.

"Cut the rest of it off and get a sub-clavical line started; start large bore IV's," House called out.

"O-sat is eighty two; starting oxygen, four liters," Thirteen said. Wilson responded to the touch of the oxygen mask going onto his face. He weakly moved his head back and forth.

"House?" Wilson whispered.

"I'm a little busy trying to get your veins to cooperate," he replied as he attempted to start an IV on Wilson's left arm. Chase was working on the sub-clavical line; Foreman had taken off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and was attempting to start an IV in Wilson's right arm.

"He's lost so much blood, the veins are collapsing," Forman said grimly.

"I don't care if he looks like he's a junkie because of all the tracks on his arm, keep trying," House said tersely.

"House…" Wilson spoke again.

"Still busy," House replied.

"Annie…where…?"

"Annie, come here," Lydia said. "Say something to him." Annie came forward hesitantly, her legs trembling as she walked.

"I'm right here, sweetie. I'm not hurt, I'm just worried about you," Annie said as she touched his left shin with her hand. "You hang in there, OK? I love you…I love you so much," Annie said as tears rolled down her cheeks. Wilson gave a slight nod and turned to look at Lydia.

"You…OK?" he barely managed to say.

"She's got her hand in your groin; how do you think she feels?" House said tossing aside the needle and tubing as he once again failed to get a line started.

"House, I've got a large bore started here," Foreman said. "If we need to go down smaller over there temporarily…or start a second on this side…"

"I don't think even a standard bore would work right now," he said as he looked over Wilson's arm and hand.

"What about a twenty-two gauge needle with a butterfly?" Lydia asked. "It might help to work open a vein for a larger needle at a later point." House looked over at her, and saw from the expression on her face that she was in pain.

"You did get hurt," he said as he took out the smaller needle to try in Wilson's arm. "What happened?"

"The bullets were hot when I got my fingers into the wound; I think I may have burned them a little."

"Lydia, you've got to switch out," Taub said. "Your fingers are going to go numb and then you won't be able to keep the seal secure on the artery."

"House," Wilson said once again.

"Not yet finished making you into a pin cushion," House said as he moved the needle in and out within the vein. "Flashback! Got it!" House looked up as Thirteen started the flow on the bag she had placed up on the IV pole; he saw that the connection was good. "Voodoo doll transformation completed," House quipped.

"House…take care…of Annie…" Wilson whispered as his eyes rolled back in his head.

"That's your job; believe it or not, I can only handle one woman at a time." There was no response. "Wilson…Wilson, stay with me," House said intently to his friend. "Damn it, Wilson, stay with me!" House yelled.

"Pulse rate is rising," said Taub.

"He going to code," Thirteen said urgently. Chase came around behind House to set the defibrillator. House grabbed the paddles.

"Get off of there!" House ordered Lydia.

"Ready!" Chased called out

"Lydia, move!" Foreman said. House realized she was trying to, but had been in one position for too long. He handed the paddles to Chase, put one arm around her shoulders, and one under her knees. With one swift movement, House lifted Lydia off of the gurney.

"Clear!" Chase yelled and hit Wilson with the paddles. House set Lydia down in a seat next to Annie as Wilson's body convulsed from the electric charge.

"Oh my God! Greg, help him!" Annie yelled out.

"Again!" House commanded, seeing that Wilson didn't respond the first time.

"Charging…Clear!" Chase called out. Wilson's body again rose off the stretcher; this time, it worked. Wilson's heart rate dropped and blood pressure rose slowly to relatively good levels considering what he had been through. His wounds began to bleed again without pressure on them; Taub quickly hopped up and placed his hand into the femoral wound.

"Once we get the two units into him, we can get him into surgery ASAP," Chase said. "Going to clamp the artery with an atraumatic clamp." Chase began working on Wilson; the placement of the clamp would eliminate the necessity of having someone keep pressure on the wound.

"Call Rayner," House said. "He's the best vascular surgeon on staff."

"I'll page him," Foreman said stepping away from the group. He didn't want Annie to hear him describe the extent of Wilson's injuries to the doctor.

"Clamp's in place," Chase announced. Taub slowly climbed down off the stretcher.

"You OK there?" Thirteen asked Taub.

"Fine. The hip isn't bleeding as severely as the femoral artery, but we'd better get something on it." Chase stepped over, took a look at the wound, and went to work placing a compression dressing on it. He needed to cut open Wilson's boxer's to do the work, but draped a sheet over the groin area when he was done. At least Wilson would have some privacy.

"That should hold it until we get him into the O.R.," Chase said. Different members of the team attended to Wilson, attaching EKG leads, piggy-backing on various IV's and assisting with a chest X-ray. They had to carefully position Wilson; an X-ray of his hip would be needed later, right now the wound in Wilson's groin was of primary concern.

"He'll need a urinary catheter," Thirteen said stepping back over to the gurney.

"I'll do it," House volunteered. "Your lack of experience with that part of the male anatomy may have serious implications on their future happiness." House looked over his shoulder at Annie, who appeared to be in a daze. Everyone else managed smiles; in the midst of tragedy, leave it to House and his gallows humor to lighten the situation ever so slightly.

"I'm not that inexperienced; you can ask Foreman." House gave Thirteen a look as he pulled the curtain around the stretcher to shield his work from passing eyes; a small measure of dignity was the least he could do for Wilson at the moment. He went about things quickly, and got the catheter in without a problem. House was glad for the few minutes away from the madness of the E.R., but now as things were settling down, he wanted to talk; he wanted to know what happened over by the restaurant.

"Rayner's on his way," Foreman said as House opened the curtain. "He'll be here in about thirty minutes." Thirteen had gotten Annie and Lydia cold water. She had offered them coffee and blankets, but both refused.

"Is…is he going to be OK?" Annie asked, her voice cracking.

"He lost a lot of blood," House began, "That's why he coded…"

"His heart stopped." Her tone indicated it was both a question and a statement. House nodded as he looked away from Annie. He sat down and started to gently clean Lydia's hands with supplies that Chase had brought over. Clearly, they were hurt more than "a little," as she had put it earlier.

"Yeah, he lost enough to make that happen," House said looking at Lydia. "But if you hadn't acted as quickly and efficiently as you did, we'd be talking about him in the past tense." Lydia shook her head.

"And then I could have killed him by yelling for the wrong blood type."

"You wouldn't have killed him with two unit of O positive; he's not that easy to get rid of. He may have had the heebee-geebees for a bit, but nothing more. And since he's not a woman, which I can attest to since I put his urinary catheter in, his future kids won't care either. But, that's why charts are always checked, actions in the E.R. are called out, and it's always best to work with a team. Whether it's a thrown together group like here," House said as he glanced around the E.R. "Or one that you hand-picked because you knew they were the best, and more than capable of having your back when necessary." House looked down at the floor. "Nice to know I made the right choices." The team looked pleased. They knew better than to say thank you; House would only manage to turn it around into a sarcastic comment.

"You've got dibs on knowing Wilson longer than we do," Taub said over his shoulder, "But we do all think of him as a friend."

"He's such a good man. It was so easy to fall in love with him," Annie said as she began to cry again. Lydia took her hand away from House and put her arm around her friend.

"Look, he's been through a lot; he suffered a terrible trauma. But he's a strong person, and he knows he has you supporting him and loving him. That makes all the difference in the world between giving up and fighting to hang on." Annie nodded and put her arms around Lydia. She started to rock back and forth as she cried.

"Oh, God; I'm letting my emotions just wander all over the place. All I can think of is you waiting at the hospital for me…and then staying by my side for so many years, all because I made a stupid, desperate mistake."

"Sometimes the best way to show how much you love someone is to get past their mistakes, and help them back to their feet," Lydia said as she stroked the top of Annie's head with the back of her hand. Lydia was still wincing even though her fingertips weren't touching anything.

"Lydia, let House finish taking care of your hands," Foreman said sitting down on the other side of Annie. She nodded and turned back to House. He could tell she wanted nothing more than to crumble into his arms and start crying; she held it together for Annie's sake.

"I'm hanging bag number two of O Negative blood," Chase called out. "BP is eighty-two over fifty, pulse is sixty four, o-sat is eighty-nine, and he's in normal sinus rhythm." All were signs of a person in distress, but more stabilized than he had been earlier.

"Those numbers…they're all higher than before, so he's doing better?" Annie asked looking between Lydia, House and the rest of the team.

"Yes, they're borderline," Thirteen said. "But much better than before." Annie nodded and managed to smile a little.

"I've been trying to learn some things about medicine, just like James has been trying to get used to certain things about music," she began. She turned to Forman. "O-sat stands for oxygen saturation and it's based on a percentage of some kind?" she questioned him. Foreman nodded and smiled.

"That's it in very basic terms," he said.

"It's better than Wilson's progress with music," House said as he started to bandage Lydia's fingers. "Living above him, Fraulein and I can attest to the fact that his attempts at playing the cello are akin to a cat's reaction to its tail being processed through a meat grinder. Even the kids find it funny." Annie finally managed to laugh.

"He's so cute when he tries to play; his face gets so…intense. He wants to learn to play an instrument, but I just don't think the cello is right for him."

"Considering where his injury is, I don't think he'll be up for spreading his legs and sticking a large wooden object that vibrates near the area anytime soon," House noted.

"I was thinking maybe the guitar. Then he could play some of those oldies we both love." House could see Annie's mood changing to a calmer state.

"I think a kazoo would be more appropriate," he said hoping to boost her spirits up even more.

"You know, I hate to bring this up, but we do have a patient waiting upstairs," Chase said. House dropped his head down as he finished working on Lydia's fingers; the main burns were on her index and middle fingers, with some burns on the ring finger of each hand. He would much rather keep working on Wilson or Lydia right now, but both were stable.

"I'll be the primary on Wilson's case, you take the deflated leg," House said. "Divide and conquer will be the best approach."

"House, we never take on two major cases at once," Thirteen pointed out. "When the repair on the tissue and femoral artery is done, and the assessment is done on his hip, Wilson will be a standard case." She saw House start to clench his jaw is an obvious display of disapproval at the suggestion he would be anywhere except with Wilson.

"If you look at his medical records, I am Wilson's primary care physician, I am his health care proxy, and his power of attorney. Until he indicates otherwise, I'm making decisions for him and staying with his case."

"I would have thought that those rights would have been transferred to Annie by now," Foreman noted. Annie shook her head as she pushed her hair away from her face.

"Ironically, that was something the four of us were going to discuss over dinner. James and I would have power of attorney for each other, but Greg would retain his position as health care proxy."

"Our situation is a little more complicated because of the kids," Lydia said, indicating House as well as herself. "I can't even think about the issue of custody. But we were going to bounce some ideas off each other tonight. We never talked about it before because we're all healthy and didn't see an immediate need. You think working in this profession, we should have shown more common sense on the subject."

"It's probably just as well things worked out the way they did. Chatting about one's mortality over a dish made with curry, doesn't always lead to the most logical of thought processes," House noted.

"House, how about you stay with Wilson and we'll just come to you with information and questions when we need to. It's pretty much the way we do things anyway. We can even see if I.C.U. has two adjoining rooms," Chase said. House nodded as he thought things over.

"How far did you get before all hell broke loose?" he asked.

"Not very far," Thirteen admitted. "He's twenty-six, married. His wife is four months pregnant. He's a firefighter for Westwood Municipal Fire Department and volunteers with the department in Harrison, his hometown."

"What does the wife do for a living?"

"She was the manager of the local Golden Corral buffet; but she was already suffering severe swelling in her legs and ankles, so she's on a leave of absence. Just drives her elderly in-laws to doctor appointments and the supermarket," Taub said.

"We got a basic medical history on the guy, but there was nothing remarkable there. We were just about to go into any job related injuries, when Foreman paged us," said Chase. House looked around to Lydia and Annie and then over at Foreman.

"How did you know they would be needed?" he asked.

"I didn't know for sure," Foreman said letting out a sigh. "The E.R. called and said they had an ambulance coming in with shooting victims from the restaurant you were going to for dinner; one man and two women. The E.R. was told that two of the people worked here; when I asked for names, they didn't know, but they said one of the women was a red-head and had an accent. I just processed that as Wilson, Lydia and Annie." Foreman looked at House. "You did a pretty good job of running when you followed me here. How the hell did you do that?" House, who had taken off his sport coat before he started to work on Wilson, rolled up his sleeves to reveal bruises and scrapes.

"I was far from graceful on my approach to the E.R.," House said. "But I made it without requiring any medical attention." Lydia looked around.

"Greg, where's your cane?" He looked in the immediate area, as did the team and Annie. It was nowhere to be seen.

"I must have left it at the front desk, along with my backpack," said House looking extremely puzzled.

"I'll call security and have them check," Foreman said.

"I know I'm getting better at walking without it in familiar places," House said, giving his head a slight shake. "I wouldn't have traveled throughout the bowels of this place without it, though."

"House," Foreman called out. "Security has both of them. I guess you want your cane here, but what about the backpack?"

"Have them put it under my desk in my office." House was still confused as to how he "ran" from the front desk to Emergency. Even accounting for the fact that he fell several times, he did seem to remember moments of actual running. And forgetting about the adrenaline that must have been racing through his veins…has Tom really made that much progress with him that when he needed it, his leg didn't fail him?

"Dr. House, here's your cane." House looked up to see a security guard standing in front of him, holding out his cane.

"Were you in the lobby when Foreman came through playing town crier?" House asked.

"I was, and I've got to tell you something, Dr. House: you've had trouble with your leg for as long as I've been working here. I never thought I'd see the day when I'd watch you take off and run like that. If there's something different you're doing…I'd keep doing it." House became uncomfortable as he realized that everyone was looking at him with insipid little smiles on their faces. He felt like he was being potty trained and just did number two in the bowl.

"Thanks," House said as he took the cane from the elderly guard.

"By the way, how is Dr. Wilson…and you ladies, too?"

"We're fine," Lydia answered, "but I'm afraid Dr. Wilson has had it rough. The surgeon should be here shortly and we'll see how things go from there." The guard nodded.

"Well, when he's up to it, tell him I send my regards."

"I will, Smitty, thank you," Lydia replied. She turned to look at House as Smitty walked away. "So, you ran and there's an eyewitness to the fact," Lydia said as she smiled and carefully folded her arms.

"I also fell, too. If you ask around, I'm sure you can get a dozen or so witnesses to that fact. Besides, there's nothing remarkable about running; it's a normal activity that most people engage in with regularity. Are you saying I'm not regular?" Lydia laughed as she shook her head; something on her forehead caught House's attention when her bangs moved away.

"When did you join a sacred sect?" he asked, taking note of the redness he briefly glimpsed. House's eyes widened as he pushed Lydia's hair away and got a good look at the mark. It was a burn, in the shape of a perfectly round circle. He recognized it right away; he felt sickened as he realized it as the opening of a gun barrel.

"The son-of –a-bitch didn't shoot you, so how the hell did this happen to you?" he asked looking at Lydia's face. She wouldn't return his look. House's team gathered around to look at what House was talking about.

"She was damned lucky," a male voice said. A man in a very basic suit and tie walked toward the group. "I'm Detective Williams, I'm handling this case." He offered his hand around to all. "How is Dr. Wilson?"

"Stable at the moment," Foreman said. "He lost so much blood that he coded on us a little while ago."

"I've seen plenty of shootings and bleed outs, but this is one of the worst. You," Williams said looking at Lydia, "Did a fantastic job. I was surprised when I heard you were an administrator here and not a doctor or Physician's Assistant. You were barking out orders like a pro." Lydia dropped her head down. She felt she didn't deserve the praise; calling out the wrong blood type for Wilson earlier was still bothering her, even though it was far from a fatal mistake.

"If she was so busy sticking her hands into my best friend's groin to stop the bleeding, when did she find time to have a close encounter with the guy's gun barrel?" House asked as he brushed aside Lydia's bangs.

"Well, I need to take a statement from the ladies, if you're both up to it; the details of everything will come out then," Williams said.

"Any reason I can't dress the wound? Even if there was, I wouldn't let it stop me; I'm more interested in finding out who I have to hunt down for doing this," House said indicating the burn mark.

"No one; the guy who mugged them got into a gun fight with two officers a few blocks away. The perp is dead."

"How…? Lydia asked. "Did he have second gun?"

"No, and that's where your luck comes into play." Williams took out a note pad. "Look, let's start this from the beginning. How did you approach the restaurant?" he asked Annie.

"Hold on," House said. He turned to Chase. "For our upper level patient: metabolic panel, CBC with differential, X-rays of the lower and upper leg, all views. Culture the wound, see what story it can tell us."

"I'll have the radiology and phlebotomy departments handle this for now so we can get things started," Chase said. "We'll go full on with him once Wilson's surgery is done. I'll give everyone a call." House looked up at Chase and nodded. Williams turned his attention to House.

"You're in charge around here, I take it." House almost smiled as he saw the look on Foreman's face at being overlooked as the obvious leader in the hospital.

"Just of my little scout troop here," House replied. "Wilson and Foreman are the official go-to guys."

"But as the old saying goes: do you want to talk to the man in charge, or the woman who knows what's going on?" Thirteen said, indicating Lydia, who shook her head.

"I'm in charge of the insurance billing area," Lydia explained. "Not the whole hospital."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you were running the show around here. You have a commanding personality," Williams said to Lydia, who was very much ill at ease with the compliment. If she didn't know better, she'd swear that Williams was flirting with her. House was oblivious to Williams' attention to Lydia; he was pleased with how uncomfortable Foreman was becoming with each passing moment.

"Got everything going," Chase said as he stepped back over to the group. "The patient is stable; the acetaminophen drip seems to be holding the temp down, although he's still 103.6." House nodded.

"We may have to start a broad spectrum anti-biotic rather than waiting to see if the culture indicates gram-positive or gram–negative. Text the lab, tell them to make the culture a priority." House looked over to Wilson and Taub. "How are Boy Wonder's numbers?" House asked Taub who was standing closest to Wilson.

"Holding steady; BP has risen slightly," he answered.

"Good," House said as he turned to Williams. "Now you can get your story with a minimal amount of interruptions." Williams eyed House up.

"Are you sure you're not in charge?" House shook his head.

"Wouldn't want the job; too much contact with the species known as human beings. Plus, I'd have to act as if I actually gave a rat's ass about things." Williams laughed.

"I understand. OK, are you up for this?" he asked Annie and Lydia.

"Yes," Annie replied. She cleared her throat and began to speak. "James and I had parked on Stewart Avenue, and we walked around the corner to Franklin Avenue. There's an alley in between the building on the corner and the restaurant. We were passing by the alley, when this guy jumps out and says, 'Get in here, get in here.' And he's waving around a gun." She took a deep breath and a drink of water before continuing. "The guy was holding a bag, or a pillow case or something; he said, 'Put your stuff in here.' He seemed very agitated and kept saying 'Hurry up, move it.' And he was cursing a blue streak. So, James took off his watch, took out his wallet and cell phone and put them in the bag. I…I put my purse in the bag…I told him my phone was in my pocketbook, but he didn't believe me; he said to take it out, and if I was lying, he would kill us." Annie started to cry. "I showed him my phone, and then put the phone, my purse, my bracelet and ring in the bag…I guess he didn't see my earrings because my hair was hiding them; but he did see my necklace." Annie began to finger the locket that was at the end of a long chain around her neck. "He told me to take the necklace off and put it in the bag…" Annie looked around at everyone. "I just freaked out. This is my grandmother's locket. It has the only picture of her on stage that I own."

"Was your grandmother a musician?" Thirteen asked.

"She was an opera singer. My mother always said that the musical talent in the family skipped a generation; she couldn't play or sing at all," Annie said half-laughing, half crying. "I begged him, I pleaded with him. I told the guy that it was my grandmother's locket and please don't take it from me. He said, 'Well, it's mine now, bitch.' And he…he pushed me up against the wall and grabbed for it. James got between the two of us, and the next thing I knew, I heard the gun go off." Annie broke down sobbing. She fell into Lydia's arms, unable to continue relating the events of the night. Lydia hugged her friend offering words of comfort as she held Annie tightly. Williams knew better than to push; he sat silently, making notes on his pad.

"Do you want some more water?" Lydia asked. Annie shook her head no.

"I just want to get this over with, and never have to think about it again." House had been listening to Annie, and felt the horror she must have experience when the gun went off; he remembered being shot himself. House also was becoming angry, angry at the wrong person. The whole thing was the mugger's fault, but House was getting pissed at Annie for not handing over the necklace. What the hell did she think…that the guy would say, oh, it's your grandmother's, keep it? Logic told him that Annie panicked, that she wasn't thinking clearly. His emotions told him that she thought the damn locket was more valuable than Wilson's life. He closed his eyes and tried to put the thought out of his head as the detective was speaking.

"Annie, I just wanted to check…your last name is Harris?" He spelled it out, and Annie confirmed the information. He did the same with Lydia. "Are you up to continuing?"

"Yes. James…he fell against the wall and slid down to the ground." She looked over at Wilson on the gurney. "There was blood everywhere…I started screaming for help, and then I heard another scream. I looked up, and I saw Lydia standing by the door to the restaurant…and…and he was pointing the gun at her head." Annie began crying again to the point of not being able to speak. Williams sensed she needed a break.

"Lydia, can you pick things up from here?" he asked. "I'd like to finish this up as quickly as possible to spare you two any further stress."

"Yes, I can." She drew a deep breath and began. "I had parked on Tanner Street which runs parallel to Stewart. I came around the corner, and almost got to the front door of Frankly Thai, when I heard the gun shots. I didn't see what was happening, because I was putting my phone into my pocket; I had my head down. I heard Annie screaming, but as I took a step toward them, there suddenly was this man standing right in front of me. He…he put his gun right up against my forehead…and he said…'Are you ready to die?'" Lydia started crying and leaned against House for comfort. "I just closed my eyes…I heard a click, then he started cursing…he ripped my necklace from me and he ran away." Lydia put her hand up to her throat and looked at House. "I'm sorry…I didn't know what to do."

"You did the right thing," House said kissing the top of Lydia's head. "I can buy you another necklace. Last I checked, Lydias with an amazing mind, a heart of gold and a hot body are not standard stock items kept on a shelf." She started to laugh through her tears.

"I was so afraid I'd never see you or the kids again," she said as she wiped her eyes with the tissues House had handed her. "The awful thing was…I couldn't move; I was just frozen in one spot. I heard Annie screaming, but I couldn't do anything."

"But you did finally go over and attend to Dr. Wilson's wounds," Williams noted. "You probably saved his life." Williams watched as Lydia leaned into House and he kissed her cheek.

"Come on, Fraulein; sit up so I can get your bull's eye taken care of." House had cleaned the area on her forehead before and was now dressing the wound with ointment and gauze. He became aware of Williams' intense gaze. "Neat thing to be able to play doctor with your girlfriend," House said pointedly in Williams' direction.

"Not when the boo-boos are real," he replied. House shot him a look.

"Yeah, but I'm still the one who gets to kiss and make it better." Williams was about to come back with another retort, when Annie interrupted.

"How soon will we be able to get our things back?" she asked. "I want to call James' parents, and the number is in my cell…and his."

"The items are being logged in and processed. It won't be too much longer until you can have them." House looked around for his jacket; he spied it over the back of a chair. Retrieving it, he dug into the pockets and fished out his phone.

"I have their number, too," House said. "Do you want to make the call, or should I?" He held out the phone toward Annie. She started to reach for it, but then shook her head.

"I…I can't. I'll get hysterical and frighten them which will be no good. Especially since his dad had those…stents…put in last year. I don't want to upset them any more than needed." House looked surprised.

"When did Daddy Wilson have his coronary arteries invaded? And how many stents were put in?"

"Last November, and I think it was two stents." Annie looked at House. "Didn't James tell you?"

"No, I just knew he spent a lot of time at home toward the end of last year. Never asked me to come with him, which he usually did."

"House? Wilson's waking up again," Taub called out. House hurried over to the stretcher followed closely behind by Annie. "He was trying to say something a second ago."

"Wilson? It's your favorite pain in the ass," House said in a sing-song manner. Wilson's eyes fluttered open; he turned his head in House's direction.

"E.R.?" he asked.

"No, 'Grey's Anatomy.' We're waiting for the surgeon while we try to get enough blood into you so you don't scare the crap out of your girlfriend again. Then, you're going into surgery. I told Foreman to call Rayner; what he lacks in personality, he makes up for in skill." Annie moved in closer to Wilson.

"Hi, babe," she said taking his hand. "I'm right here." He nodded.

"How…did I…scare…"

"You coded." Wilson closed his eyes.

"That's…usually your trick," he said as he shook his head. House hid his smile from Wilson.

"Yeah, well it was your turn to grandstand this time," House said.

"Sweetie, I'm going to call your parents and let them know what's going on."

"No, I…don't want…my dad getting…upset…"

"Why didn't you tell me about your dad's heart problem?" House asked. "I could have at least gone with you and played shotgun on the ride down to your folks." Wilson shook his head.

"Dad's….very stubborn...too proud…to let anyone…know about his problems." House looked away from Wilson.

"Like father, like son," he said.

"James, I'm going to call your parents," Annie insisted. "They'll be very upset if I don't. They're going to want to be with you."

"Are you sure you're up to it?" House questioned. Annie nodded.

"I got along very well with his folks when we visited them a few weeks ago. I can do it." Suddenly, a man in a polo shirt and khakis appeared at the foot of the stretcher.

"Hi, Dr. House? I'm Chris Rayner. I believe we've met before, but it was a long time ago." Rayner offered his hand, which House took reluctantly. "Dr. Wilson? It's Dr. Rayner," he said as he put latex gloves on. "I'm going to take a look at what happened to you." Rayner looked over at Annie. "Mrs. Wilson, I think it would be better if you stepped away for a moment." Annie was taken back at Rayner's assumption that she was Wilson's wife.

"I'm James' girlfriend…" she began.

"Are you his health care proxy?" Rayner asked curtly.

"No, Greg is," Annie answered indicating House.

"Then he's the one I need to direct my comments to." Annie was startled by Rayner's demeanor; House just plain didn't like it.

"Dr. Wilson is perfectly capable of deciding who he wants his case discussed with; his mind is operating in present tense," House said. Rayner and House locked eyes. The two men were clearly going to clash over certain things regarding Wilson. That was OK with House. What was not OK, was the way he spoke to Annie, who was a bundle of nerves to start with. House himself was very often accused of the same behavior, but now that the shoe was on the other foot, the guy's attitude got under House's skin.

"As I'm sure you're aware, Dr. House," Rayner began in a patronizing tone, "I can only discuss Dr. Wilson's medical issues with a designated representative that he has approved in writing," House clenched and unclenched his fist around the head of his cane.

"It's OK, Greg. I want to call James' parents now. I'll be back, sweetie," Annie said as she gave Wilson's hand a squeeze. Wilson nodded and Annie stepped away to make the call.

"I see the artery has been clamped. Was pressure applied before that?" Rayner asked as he looked over the femoral area.

"Yeah, Dr. Taub was having a quasi-intimate relationship with Wilson by keeping his hand in Wilson's groin. He's a member of my team, and one of the doctors attending the wounded warrior at the moment."

"How long did he apply pressure?"

"About twenty…maybe thirty minutes. Before he took over, Ms. Strohman who was part of the dinner party going to Frankly Thai, was applying pressure no more than a minute or two after the shooting occurred." Rayner looked at House curiously.

"By Ms. Strohman, are you referring to the woman who came to work here at PPTH a few months ago? The bitch who's great at busting chops if you inform her that you have better things to do than her damn paperwork?" Rayner asked.

"No, I'm talking about the bitch who sooner or later is going to wind up being your boss when she becomes Dean of Medicine. She also happens to sleep next to me every night," House replied.

"Sorry, I didn't know there was a personal connection," Rayner said as he began to look at things in the hip area. Wilson winced and whimpered as Rayner touched the area. "I can't be sure, but there appears to be bone chips here….it's also possible that the head of the femur's been shattered."

"Wha...what?" Wilson whispered.

"You're going to have fun driving them crazy at security checkpoints in airports," said House. Wilson would not be happy with the idea of an artificial hip, but he'd have to deal with whatever was necessary to keep him mobile. Rayner removed the gloves from his hands. "I'm going to have to wait until we're in the O.R. to get a clear picture of what's what. Open the curtain." The directive was aimed at House; he usually didn't care about please-and-thank-yous, but he felt that he should have at least been shown respect as both a doctor and a "family member" of the patient. Nevertheless, House reached over and opened the curtain half way; House could be seen by Annie, Lydia and his team, Rayner could not. Rayner looked at House, and after a moment, opened the curtain the rest of the way.

"How does it look, Dr. Rayner?" Foreman asked.

"He's not going to tell you; you don't have a get out of jail free card," interjected House. Rayner shot him a look, then ignored House.

"Is that the second bag of blood he's getting?" Rayner asked as he glanced over his shoulder at Wilson.

"Yes; here's the preliminary chart…" Thirteen began to say.

"I don't need to see that," Rayner said rudely cutting her off. "Verbal reports from an attending doctor will be fine." House's team began to go over the sequence of events, the medicine that was put through the IV, the difficulty in starting lines on Wilson…everything. When they were done, Rayner looked at Foreman.

"Can I assume that as a close colleague of Dr. Wilson's you're going to want to be in the O.R.?" House could see that Rayner's attitude was even getting to him.

"As a neurologist, I'd like to be in there, yes," Foreman said standing up to face the overbearing doctor.

"Of course, of course. Dr. Chase, I'd take it that you'd like to assist me?" Chase was also not fond of Rayner's demeanor, but he kept his cool.

"I'd be glad to scrub in," he said.

"I'll be scrubbing in, too," House said. It was a statement of fact, not a request. Rayner cast a wary eye on House.

"Dr. House, do you really think that's a good idea? The operating room will be crowded enough as it is, with one surgeon, two doctors, the anesthesiologist and the surgical nurses all in there. Besides, aren't you a little too close to Dr. Wilson to keep an objective opinion about things?"

"I'm actually very objective," House said. "I'm objective enough to know you counted incorrectly. There's going to be two surgeons, a neurologist, and the other assorted medical professionals you named." Rayner was about to answer, when Taub called over to them.

"House, Wilson wants you."

"So do a lot of people; only one brainy female gets to have me." House came over to the gurney.

"House…" Wilson whispered.

"That's what people call me, among the other names they mutter under their breath."

"No…no DNR." said Wilson. House realized that he shouldn't be the only one to hear this, even with Taub up on the gurney.

"Annie, come here," he said. Annie walked over.

"What's the matter?" she asked anxiously.

"I think Wilson wants to make a change to his living will and I want multiple sets of ears to hear this." He looked down at Wilson. "What were you saying? Wilson?" Wilson opened his eyes and looked at Annie.

"No DNR…don't let me die…"

"Oh, my God, James, of course not! What are you talking about?" She looked at House for an answer, not knowing what Wilson was trying to say.

"Right now, his living will states that he wants a Do Not Resuscitate order; he didn't want to be a vegetable. What he's saying now, is that he no longer wants the DNR, he wants all means possible used to keep him alive. Would everyone concur?" House looked at Taub, Annie and Lydia, who had walked over next to her friend.

"Yes, absolutely," they all said in one form or another. House looked down at Wilson.

"Why the change?" he asked. Wilson turned his head.

"Annie," he whispered. Annie teared up and squeezed his hand. House shook his head.

"You manage to keep finding new ways to hang around and be pleasantly annoying." Wilson managed a slight smile. "I'll put the notation on your chart and have it initialed by your fellow head honcho, Foreman." House turned and saw that Rayner had finally decided to take a look at the chart that they had started for Wilson.

"Dr. House, did you just state that Dr. Wilson's Living Will stated that he wanted a DNR order in effect?"

"Until about a minute ago, yeah," House said as he reached for the file Rayner was holding.

"I'm very concerned, Dr. Foreman, that proper protocols weren't followed. According to Dr. Wilson's chart, he flat lined, and measures were taken to revive him. Dr. House, as Dr. Wilson's health care proxy, you knew what his wishes were. It seems to me that you allowed your own wishes to be carried out instead of his." Rayner looked at House accusingly, gloating that he had caught House in a mistake. House was clearly not happy with what Rayner was pulling.

"Are you really that pissed that we pulled you away from your weekly poker game at the club? Or was the tonight the night you usually see your girlfriend for your weekly hook-up? Oops! Forgot that your wife doesn't know about that."

"Dr. Rayner," said Lydia very quickly stepping in to try and diffuse the situation. "Although it may seem that Dr. Wilson's wishes on the subject of a DNR order were ignored by…well, all of us, really…the fact is, they were not."

"But clearly this says…" began Rayner.

"Yes, I know what that says, and I know what Dr. Wilson's Living Will says; a copy of it is sitting on my dining room table at the moment. What supersedes any written document, is a spoken plea for help in the midst of a crisis. Dr. Wilson said, as he just did now, 'Please do not let me die.' I think it would have been improper protocol to ignore such a request, don't you?" Rayner was completely flustered as he tossed Wilson's chart onto the end of Wilson's gurney.

"Point very well taken, Ms. Strohman; I wasn't aware of the full circumstances." Rayner turned to House, knowing he might as well give in. "If you would like to scrub in, Dr. House, you are more than welcome." House looked down at the floor and tapped on it with his cane a few times.

"Despite my…differences of opinion with some people, I fully trust the skills and abilities of the people you previously selected to join you in the O.R." Rayner nodded and started to walk away. "However," House added in, "I will insist on you using one of the rooms that has an observation deck. Like the eyes of the gods, I will be watching from above." Rayner shook his head in disgust.

"Have them prep O.R. number three; we'll scrub in and begin." The surgeon stormed away down the hall. Lydia, along with everyone else, began to chuckle. Even Det. Williams, who had returned at the beginning of Lydia's speech to Rayner, joined in.

"Why the hell did you want him to operate on Wilson?" Chase asked. "The guy is a total jerk!"

"I didn't ask him to come here because I thought he'd play nice in the sandbox," House said. "Despite his annoying and abrasive manner, he's damn good at what he does."

"Hmmm…sound like someone else we all know?" Lydia asked as she put her arm around House. He shot her a look and shook his head.

"Dr. Wilson didn't ask for help before, did he?" Williams asked.

"Of course, he did," Lydia said. "He may not have said it out loud, but there's a certain unspoken language between friends that can always be heard by the right people," she said looking at Annie, then at House and Wilson. "By the way, when did you start referencing gods of any kind?" she asked House. He shrugged.

"It sounded appropriately omnipotent at just the right time. Besides, there just might be times when a shout out to activity from above comes in handy," he said.

"Like if you're home alone with the kids and the angels decide to start bowling?"

"Yeah, that is a pretty good one," he replied. Lydia saw that everyone looked confused.

"It's a concept best understood by those who deal with children," she said.

"When the hell did I start being included in that motley crew?" House asked as he avoided looking at everyone.

"About two…months…ago." House turned around and walked over to Wilson's bedside.

"Yes, Uncle James. You're an expert on this stuff, we get it," said House. "You're going to head in to prep for surgery. Chase and Foreman are going to be in the O.R. with you. I could have given Rayner a hard time and insisted on being in there…but you told me to take care of Annie." Wilson managed a smile.

"Thanks." Thirteen approached the gurney.

"House, I just suggested to Annie and Lydia that we find a way to help them get cleaned up. I know Lydia can't get her fingers or forehead wet, so I thought you could help her. I'd give Annie a hand," she said dropping her voice, "and make sure she's OK. She said the guy pushed her against the wall; I wanted to check her back. I was going to use the locker room closest to your office."

"Good idea; are there any clothes they can change into?"

"I was going to give them each a pair of scrubs and some of those crappy hospital booties. I know that no one is leaving here tonight; maybe tomorrow, we can run over and get some things they need," said Thirteen.

"Maybe even convince them to go home for a bit," House replied.

"No, no," Annie said firmly, "I'm not leaving James."

"Annie, you're going to have to go home and get some sleep," Lydia said.

"No, I can sleep in one of those reclining chairs that I've seen in patient's rooms."

"Look, let's get you two cleaned up and Wilson prepped for surgery. We can discuss living arrangements later," House said stepping aside for Annie to get closer to Wilson.

"Bye, sweetie. I'll be right there when you wake up. I spoke to your parents, and I'll take care of them when they get here, don't worry." Annie gently squeezed Wilson's hand. "I love you."

"I love you…too," he whispered. He closed his eyes as Annie squeezed his hand one more time. She quietly began to cry as she stepped away. Lydia put her arm around her and led Annie over to the doors that exited the E.R.; House moved up to the head of the gurney.

"So, the game plan," House said as Wilson opened his eyes, "is to get the lead out, repair the pipeline, and see if you can resume your career with the Bolshoi Ballet. Oh, and since I'm the one who put your urinary catheter in, I've put in a special request for a pillar support for your third leg." Wilson closed his eyes and ever so slightly shook his head.

"You forget…one thing," Wilson said weakly. "I'm the…one who…put your catheter…in after the crane…collapse." House looked down at Wilson and smiled.

"And you've been seething with envy ever since." He realized Wilson was moving his hand. It looked like he was trying to curl his fingers in so he could give House a fist pump. House didn't know what made him do it, but he opened his friend's hand, and placed it in his. House could tell by Wilson's increased heart rate, that he was pleased by the action.

"I'll be watching from above," House said.

"You…won't be…the only one," Wilson replied. House wasn't sure if Wilson meant Annie, Lydia or some other no-see-um entity. Right now, House didn't want to know.

"See you later." House grabbed his cane. "Can you wait outside of the O.R….just in case your services are needed?" House asked Taub.

"I already planned on scrubbing in." he replied. House nodded and walked toward Lydia and Annie. He stopped after a few steps, and turned to look at his team. "I'll be in the observation room."

"House, I was going to have someone get some coffee and something to eat and have it brought up to the waiting area. Even if just a snack, you all need some sustenance," Foreman said. House closed his eyes for a second.

"Thanks." As House continued to the E.R. doors, Thirteen came up next to him and joined him in walking toward the ladies.

"James' parents are on their way here. I told them to ask the security guard to call you to get the OK to come in," Annie said to House as she handed his phone back to him.

"How did they take it?" he asked.

"They freaked out, like any parent would do."

"Almost any parent," House noted as they turned a corner.

"Greg, I spoke to Reverend Bell as I was on my way to the restaurant. He said your mother was stable, no real changes. I told him I'd check back with him tomorrow," Lydia said. She suddenly stopped walking. "Oh, no! I just realized I don't know where my pocketbook is."

"Don't worry," House said. "I saw one of the EMT's give it to Foreman. He put it in a patient's booty bag along with Wilson's shoes."

"I'll text Foreman and have him bring it to you in the waiting area outside the observation room," Thirteen said.

"Oh, I called Tom and Marianne after I spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Wilson; Tom's on his way over. They're not going to say anything to the kids." Lydia nodded as they turned the final corner for the hallway to the elevators.

"I called Slick," Thirteen said. "He heard about the shooting on his police scanner, but had no idea it was someone he knew."

"Surprise, surprise," House said grimly.

"Greg…James isn't out of the woods yet, is he?" Annie asked. House pushed the button for the elevator and shook his head as he looked down at the floor.

"He's not even halfway through the forest."


	4. Chapter 4

ife and Limb"

Chapter Four – "Tiptoeing Around the Subject"

By: Purpleu

"Hold the elevator, please!" House turned and saw a woman running with an armload of things, trying desperately not to drop them. He stuck his cane out to prevent the doors from closing. He wasn't in the mood to be gallant, but being the only guy with three women in tow, House didn't see how he had a choice. "Thank you, so much. I was about to leave after doing a seven to seven, but two nurses called in sick, so I volunteered to stay. I'm trying to find a place to hide while I do what passes for dinner break." She finally got a look at Lydia and Annie with their blood splattered clothes. "What the hell happened to you two?" The women related to the nurse what happened, and how they were trying to clean up while Wilson was being prepped for surgery.

"Your name's Katherine, isn't it?" Thirteen asked. "You work in N.I.C.U.?"

"Yeah, people usually call me Kat and I do work in the Neo-Natal I.C.U." The two had met a few weeks earlier when House's team dealt with a newborn with a bacterial respiratory ailment. "I heard about Dr. Wilson. News about the shooting has spread through the hospital like wildfire." She looked at Lydia. "You're Dr. Wilson's girlfriend?"

"No, Annie is; I'm Dr. House's girlfriend." Kat looked up at House.

"The parents of that baby with the respiratory infection are very grateful to you and your team," she said glancing at Thirteen. "The mother was told she could never have children, so this baby was a miracle to them. So was what you did."

"It wasn't a miracle," House groused. "It was solid medical reasoning." He eyed Kat up. "Want to do a favor for us on behalf of the bambino and its family?" he asked as the doors opened on the fourth floor.

"Um…Ok. What can I do?" Thirteen, Lydia and Annie looked at House with puzzlement.

"These ladies need to get cleaned up, and we're going to help them. Care to act as bodyguard and not let anyone come into the locker room down here," House said indicating the end of the hall with his cane, "We'll pull you out a comfy chair from our conference room so you can sit and eat your dinner. " Kat shrugged.

"Sure, no problem. It's as good a place as any to hide." Thirteen stepped into the conference room, grabbed a chair, and placed it outside the locker room.

"Are you sure you're going to be OK here?" Lydia asked.

"I'll be fine," Kat said. She stared at Lydia. "Oh, I may be too tired to do this extra shift. I didn't recognize you at all. I was at the presentation you made several months back. You stood out to me, not just because what you were saying is exactly what this place needs, but your accent reminds me of my grandmother. I'm sorry…I'm being a ditz."

"Don't be silly," Lydia said with a smile. "Tell me, are you so short-handed that you do twelve hour doubles often?" Kat rolled her eyes.

"Way too often. And these babies…they're in N.I.C.U. for a reason; we should be at the height of our abilities, not dragging our asses." Lydia nodded.

"I know Dr. Wilson and Dr. Foreman are aware of the situation and are trying to find the money to get you at least some floaters to sub in."

"They came up and interviewed all of us," Kat said as she sat down. She looked at Annie. "Dr. Wilson is a sweetheart."

"Yes…yes he is," Annie replied.

"We better get you two squeaky clean before they start anything in the O.R.," House said, anxious to move things along.

"Thanks for playing guard for us," Thirteen said.

"No problem." Kat replied. "Dr. House? Dr. Wilson...he's going to be OK, isn't he?" House looked away and made eye contact with no one.

"We'll see." He entered the locker room followed by Thirteen, Annie and Lydia.

"What I can find for you in here?" Thirteen wondered as she opened a closet. "Hmmm…pink scrubs, and…there are actually clogs in here wrapped in plastic." She passed the items out to Lydia.

"Have anything in there in a manly blue? Or least something else other than pink," House said, "I think only my shirt has the red badge of courage, so just a top would work."

"You did get some on your pants," Lydia noted. House didn't want to look at it.

"I'll be fine."

"Here," Thirteen said passing out some scrubs to House. They were a drab gray color, which matched House's mood perfectly. "There's a shirt and pants there. Do you want shoes, too? I can color-coordinate you." Thirteen was trying to bust House's chops a little, hoping it would be a distraction; she wasn't having any luck. She handed Annie pink scrubs and clogs while waiting for House to respond.

"I'll clean these after we get washed up," he said indicating his sneakers. He was glad he was still wearing them when he took off after Foreman to the E.R. He had put the dress shoes he had gotten a few months ago in his car and was going to change into them before he got to the restaurant. He looked down at his sneakers, a gray and yellow combo. There wasn't much blood on them, just some splatters, but they stood out as a painful reminder of the events of the evening. "We'll take this side," House said indicating the shower stalls to his right. "You take her over there," he said pointing to the left side of the locker room. House couldn't bring himself to call Annie by her name at the moment. The images of Wilson…covered in blood, coding, stripped down with no dignity, bags of blood and IV fluids being forced into his body…kept running through House's mind. Then he thought of Lydia, with most of her fingers bandaged, the evidence of the mugger's callous disregard for human life literally burned into her forehead. And the question the bastard asked: "Are you ready to die?" House closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he and Lydia placed the scrubs on a bench outside one of the showers. He now knew that he was in deep; losing her to something like this, or an accident, was something House had never considered before. He always thought he'd majorly screw something up, and she'd leave. But if anything ever happened to Lydia, he had no doubt what path he'd wind up stumbling down, and it wouldn't be pretty. How the hell could Annie have even hesitated for a second when the guy demanded her necklace? She put all of their lives at risk; his too if you stretch things out to their logical conclusion. Was that damned locket really worth more than Wilson's life? Or Lydia's? House stopped himself from rehashing things too much as he saw Lydia struggling just to remove her shoes; the dried blood was acting like glue and keeping her foot sealed in. He knew that Annie would have handed the jewelry over in a second if it was put to her in terms of endangering people she cared about; still, it just bothered the hell out of House…

"Greg?" House was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't realize that Lydia had called his name. "Are you alright?"

"No, but I guess I have no choice. What's up?"

"We're going to need towels," Lydia said, finally getting her shoes off. House nodded and went back to the closet; he met Thirteen who was looking for the same thing.

"How's Annie's back?" he forced himself to ask. Thirteen shook her head.

"Really scratched up. She must had slid down against the bricks. She has a scrape that's about eight inches wide, from her shoulder blades to the small of her back. It shredded the back of her blouse to bits and she's bleeding." She looked at House as he reached up to the top shelf and pulled down a stack of towels. "You were standing right next to her when she was talking to Wilson; didn't you notice?"

"I'm sorry, I was focused on the guy whose blood we're all wearing. Somehow, the wound that could be taken care of with first aid cream escaped my attention." He handed Thirteen two towels and took the rest with him over to Lydia. House practically threw the towels onto the bench, making Lydia jump.

"I'm going to text Taub and tell him to bring up a couple of cold packs for your hands and head," said House. "I'll also tell him to grab some ibuprofen, too."

"Thank you." Lydia knew better than to keep asking House if he was OK; he wasn't. There were a lot of people who were going to be affected by these events. Most especially Wilson, of course, but she knew that House, Annie and herself were going to be feeling the repercussions of things deeply. Lydia looked over at House and saw that he was holding one of the plastic bags that the hospital clogs came in; she could see the wheels turning.

"I'll be right back," he said as he rose from the bench. "The tadpole nurse…what's her name?"

"Kat, why?" House didn't answer, but went over to the door of the locker room. House opened it, stuck his head out and saw Kat sitting to his left.

"Kat, do you have a couple of pairs of gloves on you? I'm trying to keep the nice German lady's bandages dry." Kat reached into her pocket and pulled out a few pairs of gloves.

"Do you need scissors?" she asked reaching into her other pocket.

"I'll find something to do with them," House said taking the offered tool. "Thanks," he said as he was halfway back into the locker room. "OK, waterproofing materials at the ready." Lydia looked at the items House placed on the bench.

"Greg, the gloves won't fit over my bandages," Lydia said.

"They're not supposed to. Come on, let's get you naked, and I'll show you my game plan." House reached up under Lydia's skirt to take her panty hose off, but was greeted by a surprise. The black hose he saw, were in fact, stockings connected to a garter belt. House looked at Lydia and pushed her skirt all the way up.

"Well, Marianne and Tom were watching the kids overnight…and I know how you like surprises," Lydia said with a smile. House, despite all that was going on, also smiled. He couldn't help but wonder over and over again how she had everything he needed, and knew when he needed it the most.

"It would have been a very nice surprise," he said moving his eyebrows up and down in a lecherous manner. "How about I take a rain check and promise to help you pick out a new pair?" he said looking at the ripped and bloodied stockings. "Besides, not that I ever give a damn about what's appropriate in a given time and place, but with the company over there," House said indicating Annie and Thirteen, "any activity we engage in would be overheard. Especially since you're so loud."

"Me?" Lydia said indignantly. House gave her a knowing look.

"Who's the one who set off the Clapper in that hotel room we stayed in a few weeks ago?"

"First of all," Lydia said, "I don't understand why a hotel that nice had a Clapper in the room to start with. And secondly, I may have set it off the first time…you made it look like a strobe light." House looked away and actually chuckled at the memory.

"Can I help it if you're talented?" he asked. Lydia shook her head as House unbuttoned her blouse and unhooked her bra with one hand, a trick he had done many times before.

"One of these days I'm going to find a way not to let you talk your way out of something," she said.

"Let me know when it happens," House said unzipping her skirt. "OK, can you handle taking off your….OMG…thong? You really were planning for a fun evening," House said, once again surprised at Lydia's choice in clothing. "Get covered up. I want to be able to concentrate on prepping the waterproofing set-up." House picked up one of the pairs of gloves, and proceeded to cut off all the fingers. He then cut a slit in the remaining latex between the finger holes, and folded it down into a wide band. House looked it over; satisfied with the result, he did the same to the other gloves. Lydia, meanwhile had removed her underwear and wrapped a towel around herself. "OK, all we need now is the cold packs…"

"Dr. House?" House headed to the door of the locker area. He saw Kat sticking her head in. "There's a Dr. Taub here to see you."

"Thanks," House said as he stepped into the hall. Taub held out the cold packs and a small bag with some pills in it. "Thought you were scrubbing in?"

"I am," Taub replied. "But to avoid any problem with Rayner, I thought I should wait until the others actually entered the O.R."

"Good idea. Vipers don't have eyes in the back of their heads," House sniped. "How's our patient?"

"Which one?" House gave Taub a look.

"The only one I really give a crap about."

"Stable. Rayner blabbed that it appears a hip replacement was needed. Of course Wilson got upset. When Rayner walked away to scrub, Chase, Foreman and I told him that we didn't know that for sure yet." House nodded.

"Has he asked where I am?"

"Well, he asked us if you were taking care of Annie; we told him what you and Thirteen were doing and he seemed happy about it," Taub said. He studied House's face. "House, he's going to be OK; we won't let anything go wrong." House wouldn't look at Taub.

"That promise only works if the planets are aligned, the moon is in the seventh house, and nobody screws up," he replied. Taub ignored House.

"There's six pills in there; I thought that would be enough under the circumstances. Will that last Lydia until you can prescribe more?" House shrugged.

"She's got second degree burns; the nerve receptors are on overtime. Thirteen tells me the songbird's back is a study in pain with how scraped up it is." House looked at the pills. "These are six-hundred milligrams, fast-release. It'll hold them until tomorrow when I can switch them over to a regulated dose of eight-hundred milligrams for the next day or two." Taub nodded.

"I've got to go scrub in. See you later." Taub hurried off down the hall. House's mind was trying to decide which of the ongoing crises he should deal with, when he realized Kat was talking to him.

"What?"

"I said Dr. Taub seems like a nice guy," Kat said as she peeled an orange.

"I see he's already started to lay the groundwork with you," replied House.

"Excuse me?" Kat didn't catch on to what House was trying to say.

"Never mind." He re-entered the locker room and went over to Lydia. "Hold your hands out to me, palms together," he said as he squeezed one of the cold packs to activate it. Lydia did as House requested; he gave her the cold pack to hold, then put one of the plastic bags that held the clogs, over her hands. House slipped one of the bands he made from the gloves over it and moved it down to her wrists. "It may be a little tight, but I don't think any water will get in." House saw she was flinching.

"The cold feels good and hurts at the same time," Lydia said. "The band is tight, but not uncomfortable."

"Good, because I don't think you'll say the same thing about the one I'm going to put on your head. I think it would be better to wait until you're finished in the shower to use a pack for your noggin. If Foreman was true to his word, there's food in the waiting room. I had Taub bring prescription strength ibuprofen; you can take one after you eat something." House took another latex band, left it very wide and placed it on Lydia like a headband. He moved it up so it rested on her bandage and pushed her hair up above the edge of the altered latex glove.

"Owl! That does hurt!" Lydia proclaimed. "But I can deal with it while we get washed up." House noticed there was no soap in the stall. He returned to the closet, and found a small bottle of body wash. It would have to double as shampoo, too; fashionable hair care be damned.

"Got soap," he said as he took off his shirt. He undid his belt and dropped his pants and underwear down in one swift movement. He removed his sneakers and socks; he was now ready for the shower, too. House felt Lydia's eyes on him as he walked into the stall and turned on the water. After he adjusted it, he motioned for Lydia to come in and join him. "I think this should be a comfortable temperature." Lydia stepped in and smiled as the water flowed over her. For the moment, it felt like she was cleansing away the trauma of the evening. What felt even better was House's hands on her; he wasn't being cute or playing around. House was far too anxious to make sure they got to the observation room before things got started. To Lydia, it was a comfort she needed right now, a reassurance that everything would be OK. She had closed her eyes, and became aware that House had stopped rubbing the soap on her; he had turned her around to face him. She looked at him questioningly. Lydia didn't know if it was the water, or tears that were making House's eyes glisten. She reached up with her hands still in the bag, and slipped her arms over his head so she could give House a hug. He put his arms around her, and just stood there for a minute, holding her.

"Greg, I'm alright," Lydia said. She moved back slightly so she could see House's face. "I might wind up having a few scars from the burns, but I think they are second-degree, so hopefully not. And even if I do scar, those will fade with time. So will the memory of this night, believe it or not. James will always have the reminder by virtue of his operation scars and the artificial hip…but that will become a part of him, and life will go on. I'm not saying you shouldn't be worried about him; you just have so many things on your plate right now…I…I'm scared that you'll you lose it and do something foolish."

"I've already said and thought some evil things; acting them out would be a natural conclusion," House noted. "If you see me take even one drink, take the car keys away from me; 'cause if I have one, I'm not going to stop there." That's not what I'm worried about, Lydia thought to herself; it's a bad habit of a different kind that's not that far in your past. Once an addict, always an addict…she held no delusions about that fact. What she was starting to wonder, is what her reaction would be if Greg chose Vicodin over coming and talking to her. She tried to ignore the thought as House tilted her head back to rub some soap into her hair and rinse it out.

"I think all the soap's out," House said. Lydia nodded and pushed the curtain aside that covered the entrance to the stall as House turned the water off; she sat down on the towel she had left on the bench. House came out right behind her and spread a towel out for himself. He grabbed another one and began to rapidly rub his body to dry it off. He wanted to get ready and then help Lydia.

"Hon, could you just take the headband off, please? It's starting to bother me." House reached over wrapped a towel around her head so the wet hair wouldn't touch her bandage. He then took the scissors and carefully cut the headband.

"Doesn't look like I gave you a haircut," he said. "No red hairs flying through the air." Lydia smiled.

"I don't think I'd care at this point if you did," she said as House cut the band away from her wrist and removed the plastic bag. "You'd mind more than me."

"Unless you got a buzz cut, I wouldn't mind," House said looking over his boxers to make sure no blood soaked through to them.

"I thought you liked a woman to wear her hair in a longer style." Lydia put her head down. "I actually started growing mine out before I moved back here; but I haven't had long hair in ages, and I found it to be too much of a pain."

"Are you trying to tell me you were growing your hair because you thought I'd like it more? Like you more?" Lydia knew it sounded foolish now, but that was her reason.

"When you described Stacy and Cuddy to me as we were talking back at Mayfield, you made a point of mentioning that they had longer, dark hair. I wasn't about to change my color, because this is what nature gave me…but I thought I could at least grow it out for you." House rolled his eyes as he pulled up his boxers.

"First of all, Stacy's hair came just a little above her shoulders. Second," he said as he put on the scrub bottoms, "I like hair I can run my fingers through; yours fits the bill perfectly. And third," he put the shirt on that matched the pants. "I fell in love with you not because of hair color or length; I don't have a Rapunzel obsession." House knelt down and helped Lydia put her legs into the pink pants. "I fell in love with you because of the three B's: Beauty, inward and outward, Brains and a Body to die for. My problem is, I'm still trying to figure out what you see in me." Lydia was going to tease House like she always did, but now wasn't the time for that. She stood up so House could pull the pants up to her waist.

"I love you because you're Greg…and you're House. Put them together and you have one hell of a man." House squirmed uncomfortably; sometimes even compliments from Lydia were difficult to accept. He saw the way she was looking down at him; he got up from the floor and stood face to face with her.

"Let's hope I can keep it together enough to prove you right," he said with a sigh. "Taub just mentioned the patient from the clinic, which I hadn't given a second thought to his situation. Then there's my mother...and I don't care how hot you look in that get up, I'm still concerned about you, too."

"Greg, I told you, I'm fine," Lydia said.

"Yeah, I know. Maybe it's knowing what you're wearing under those scrubs," House said as he started to walk away.

"I'm…I'm not wearing anything under these scrubs." House stopped and turned toward Lydia.

"Yeah, I know," House said with a sexier tone to his voice than the first time he said that phrase a minute ago. "I'm going to clean these up." He held up his sneakers and headed to the common sink area between the two shower areas. As he turned on the water, he heard Thirteen and Annie talking; House realized there was no shower running at the moment. "How are things going over there?" he asked without really caring.

"Good, Annie's almost dressed. I'm going to need to do something about her back, House," Thirteen said pointedly. He turned off the water at the sink.

"Are you dressed enough to avoid embarrassment? I couldn't give a crap; I've seen it all before. Not yours, of course." He heard a little laugh come from the shower area and recognized it as Annie's. It was better than her crying.

"You can come over," Annie said. House rounded the corner and saw Annie fully dressed in the scrubs, her semi-wet hair hanging down around her shoulders. Even wet, it was a mass of curls,

"Still haven't figured out how to tame the savage beast?" House asked brushing the hair away from her back with his hand.

"I'm not going to do what they did to me in Mayfield. They were going to cut it short because they didn't want to deal with it," she said looking at House and Thirteen. "But Lydia wouldn't let them. As a compromise, every couple of months, they straightened it. God, my hair was like straw after all that. I stopped that immediately after we got out to Arizona."

"Why didn't they just put it up in a ponytail or clip it back?" Thirteen asked.

"It still had to be brushed," Annie pointed out.

"OK, the lesson from Vidal Sassoon is over," House announced, beginning to get annoyed. "Let's see your back." Annie turned, and while her back was facing House, Thirteen picked up the scrub shirt. Even House was taken back at how badly Annie's back had been hurt. "I take it these were not your standard little red school house bricks."

"No, these were the beige, architectural type; they had points that jutted out as well as hollows in between." House gestured to Thirteen to put Annie's shirt down.

"When we get set up in the waiting area, Thirteen can go and get some things to bandage that up," House said. "I just have to clean my footwear and we're ready." Quickly scrubbing the last of the blood from his sneakers, House dried them off with the hand dryer and put them on his feet. He returned to the side where he and Lydia had set up camp; she had packed up his clothes in one bag and hers in another.

"I didn't know what you wanted to do with these," she said pointing to the bags on the bench. "I…I think I'm just going to throw mine away. I don't think I could ever wear these or look at them again without thinking about tonight," Lydia said sadly. House was going to argue the idea with her, but he didn't want to waste the time. House wanted to try and get to the operating theater before they knocked Wilson out…if he was even still conscious.

"We can put the bags in my office along with my backpack," said House. "Think it over and see if that's really what you want to do." He picked up the wet towels and put them in a hamper by the door. Annie and Thirteen met him there. "Be back in a sec with Fraulein." House came back to Lydia, picked up the bags of clothing and headed toward the door.

"Greg?" House turned around. "You're forgetting this." He saw Lydia holding out his cane to him.

"I guess my gray matter is turning blue from all the thought processes choking it up," he said walking over to Lydia. He raised his head up and made eye contact. "Go ahead, say it."

"You forgot it because you don't really need it at the moment; you're thinking about everything but your leg." Lydia replied. He twirled the cane between his fingers.

"Let's go," House said looking away from Lydia.

"Ready?" Thirteen asked.

"Yes, we just have to drop those in Greg's office," Lydia said pointing at the plastic bags House carried. As Thirteen reached for the door, it suddenly opened.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Kat said. "A security guard just came by and asked me to give these to you." Kat had a bag marked "Patient's Belongings" and a burgundy blazer. She held them out to Lydia.

"That's mine…and here's my cell phone," Lydia said reaching into the pocket of the blazer. She opened the bag. "And here's my pocketbook." She pulled it out and placed the strap on her shoulder. Lydia looked in the bag; House saw her expression change as she saw the contents. "James' shoes and socks," she said quietly.

"We'll put them in my office, too." House said.

"Thank you so much for helping out," Lydia said to Kat. "It looks like you're not finished." Kat was still munching on her orange.

"Can I sit in your conference room to finish this?" Kat asked House. "I won't leave a mess behind." House made a face.

"You'd better make sure the place is sparkling clean. Foreman likes to do random white glove tests, ironic as it may seem."

"I…I promise; the place will…"

"Kat, pay no attention to the man behind the cane. He's busting your chops," Lydia said.

"Oh…OK," Kat replied hesitantly.

"Thanks again," Thirteen said as the group walked away. When they got to the office, House peeled off to the right and put the bags under his desk so they wouldn't be seen from the hall. He rejoined the ladies.

"Make a left at the end of the hall, and then a quick right. The elevators there will take us closest to the observation room for Wilson," said House.

"Wait; where are your clothes?" Lydia asked Annie.

"I threw them out. There was too much blood on them….and I don't ever want to see them again," Annie said, her voice cracking. _Oh, great…now she's going to start crying again, House thought. I really don't want to hear it. Let's see what I can do to turn off the water works._

"You probably threw them out so you could torture Wilson by taking him clothes shopping, the most dreaded sub-division of going to the mall," House said. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw Annie was smiling. _Whew…dodged that one._

"Actually, James doesn't mind shopping. I'm really lucky that way," said Annie wistfully. _Maybe that didn't work as well as I hoped; let's try this again._

"Yeah, it's one of his more annoying traits that women find so attractive," House said. When there was no response, House managed to sneak a look at Annie. _Well, at least she's not crying; guess I can claim_ _this as success._ They arrived at the elevators; House pushed the call button.

"Do you think I'll be able to talk to James before things start?" Annie asked. The elevator doors opened and the four got in.

"From the observation room only. He's probably in the O.R. already; hopefully still awake." House said as the elevator arrived by the waiting area. The doors opened to reveal Tom and Slick waiting for them. Lydia and Annie rushed forward to embrace their friends.

"Thank God, you two are OK," Tom said looking them both over. He looked at Lydia's bandaged fingers and head, then at Annie. "You didn't get hurt?"

"Her back needs some attention," House said. "Got scraped up when the guy pushed her against the wall and went for her necklace."

"You hadn't gotten there yet," Slick said to House as he gave Lydia a hug.

"Greg was still here," said Lydia. "He's the one who oversaw James's treatment." House slowly shook his head.

"It was a typical trauma situation; my team helped. Which is a good thing they did, or I would have fired their asses."

"Come on, let's get you two sitting down and throw some food into you. People from the local deli just brought this stuff in," Tom said as he led them into the waiting room. Sure enough, there was a spread in front of them: sandwiches, wraps, bags of chips, fruit and containers of yogurt. All of this plus pound cake slices, cookies and a large urn of coffee. There was even a large plastic tub set up with ice, bottles of water and iced tea, and cans of soda. "Looks like someone thinks you're going to be here for the long haul," noted Tom. "They brought in plates, napkins, knives and forks, cups…and every kind of condiment."

"The operation will probably take a couple of hours, two to three. We'll take what's left over from here to the recovery waiting area; that's where you'll be able to see your fingernails grow," House said. He looked over and saw that Lydia and Annie were just staring at the food. "Trying to figure out where to start?" Both women shook their heads.

"I'm imagining what James would say if he saw all of this," Annie said, a smile spreading over her face.

"Me, too," Lydia said. "Probably, 'Whose budget is all of this coming out of?'" Annie and Lydia said together. Both started laughing, joined quickly by Tom and Slick. House managed to let himself smile.

"And then he'd hate himself for letting the business side of him talk rather than the overtly caring side," noted House.

"Very true," Annie said.

"Hey, guys?" Thirteen had gone into the observation room while the others talked. "Wilson's still awake, but they're going to put him under and begin in about five, ten minutes." Everyone hurried into the observation area, Tom and Slick included. Annie got to the window first; she gasped and buried her head into Lydia's shoulder. The view was no different than anyone else in the room had seen before: a patient, stripped down and readied for surgery, with a variety of leads, tubes and monitors everywhere. The fact that this time it was Wilson, startled all of them; it devastated Annie.

"Can…can I talk to him?" she asked. House moved over to the intercom that connected to the operating room and pushed the button to talk.

"Hey, Dancing Queen; you awake down there?" Wilson slowly opened his eyes. They hadn't intubated him yet and had switched him off the oxygen mask to just the nose delivery system; they'd change that back when the time got closer to start. House saw his vitals were slightly improved from before, a good sign.

"House?"

"What other voice around here comes with built-in sneer and sarcasm levels? Of course it's me."

"Annie?" She smiled when she heard Wilson ask for her.

"Sure toss me aside for some woman. I always knew you'd do that someday…again." Wilson was trying to laugh, but couldn't quite manage it.

"Why not? You've…done the…same…thing to …me…now."

"You're still a few ahead of me," House said. Annie was waiting impatiently by his side. "Here…before the songbird beats me up to get to the intercom." House stepped aside.

"Hi, babe. Are you hanging in there?" she asked. Wilson nodded slightly.

"As…best I…can."

"Everyone's here," Annie said trying not to cry. "Greg and Lydia, of course. And Thirteen. But Tom and Slick are here, too."

"The whole… gang," Wilson answered weakly.

"Yes. Your parents should be here soon." There was no response. "James?" House saw that the anesthesiologist was beginning to administer medicine to Wilson's IV.

"They're starting to knock him out," House said quickly.

"Sweetie, I'll see you when all of this is over. I'll be waiting." Annie started to cry. "I love you."

"Love…you…" House saw that they were about to place the intubation line.

"Come on; you don't want to see this," House said as he put his hands on Annie's shoulders and turned her gently toward Lydia. He turned back to look down on the operating room; Chase and Foreman were on each side of the table. Nurses were fluttering around. Rayner had not yet moved into position. House went to reach for the intercom button; he realized that was foolish. Wilson wouldn't be able to hear him anyway. Despite all logic and reason, House once again reached for the button.

"Later, Wilson." Whether Wilson heard it or not, House didn't know…or care. At least, it was said.

"Let's get something to eat," Lydia said leading Annie into the hallway, and then the waiting room. "We can take the ibuprofen Greg got for us after we get something into our stomachs. Then maybe Thirteen can put something on your back to help it feel better." Annie nodded.

"Come on Medusa," Tom said teasing Annie about her hair. "There are only so many rainbow cookies on the tray that was brought in. You'd better go stake your claim now." He got Annie to smile as he led her to a seat. Lydia let Tom handle Annie while she went back to House, who remained in the observation room.

"I know you're going to want to stay here," Lydia said to House. "What can I bring you?" House shook his head.

"Just some coffee."

"Greg, you have to eat something."

"No, I don't" he said. "The human body can survive for three weeks without food. You might get a little light headed and wind up rivaling Valerie Bertinelli as weight loss queen, but you'll survive."

"House, I don't mean to butt in," Slick said. "But under the circumstances, I'd think you'd want to keep your wits about you." Slick gestured down to the operating room. House sighed.

"To keep Slippery here from busting my balls, I'll take the coffee and a few of the cookies," House said looking at Lydia. "You know the type I like." She nodded.

"The more chocolate sprinkles the better," she replied. "Can I get you anything?" Lydia asked Slick.

"Yeah, thanks. Coffee, black….and some kind of turkey sandwich. You need any help?"

"No, thanks…just hang out here," she said glancing over her shoulder at House.

"Fraulein?" Lydia hesitated by the door to the room. "I'll take whatever they have that passes for roast beef." Lydia smiled, left the room, and headed to the food spread. Slick wandered over to where House was standing.

"So I guess you're the designated babysitter for now," House said.

"As long as it doesn't involve changing diapers, I'm fine with it," Slick replied. "I just wish the whole damn building and fifty feet in any direction wasn't a non-smoking area."

"When I don't feel the need to keep watch here, I'll join you in one, if you can spare it." Slick looked at House in surprise.

"Yeah, sure, no problem. I just thought you said you stopped smoking years ago."

"I was basically a social smoker, nothing heavy. Then at Mayfield, I started again, more on than off. Lydia said it reminded her of her then husband, so I stopped. Never did start again, but now seems as good a time as any."

"Dr. House?" It was Rayner.

"Present and accounted for," replied House.

"Is there any history of heart disease in Dr. Wilson's family?" The question surprised House; Rayner hadn't even begun to work on Wilson. He quickly realized that Rayner was trying to make a choice on which approach to take to repair the artery.

"His father just had two stents put in this past November," offered House. Rayner considered House's words.

"I'm going to take a saphenous vein from his left leg. He's a relatively young man; if there's a history of heart disease, he may want to have certain options available to him later on."

"Sounds good. You're going to pull the vein arthroscopically." House was making a statement, not asking a question.

"Of course; that way Dr. Wilson will have a small scar that will fade in a year or two." Rayner may be a dick when it came to bedside manner, but he knew what he was doing. House rolled his eyes as he could hear Lydia making the comparison between him and Rayner like she did down in the E.R.

"House, we were so concerned with the vascular issues that we hadn't decided on an orthopedic surgeon," Chase said. "I hope you don't mind, but I called Mike Ellis." House was pleased with Chase's selection; Ellis was the same doctor he himself would have chosen.

"Ellis is good at what he does; very good," noted House. "Did he tell you to check and see if Wilson has a nickel allergy? It's becoming an issue more and more these days."

"He ordered it when I spoke to him. He should be here within the hour," Chase replied.

"Are we ready?" Rayner asked. Everyone answered in the affirmative. "Scalpel." House felt the hairs stand up on his arms. This is ridiculous I'm being an idiot. There are damn good doctors down there with Wilson. I don't need to be down there. I don't need to be; I want to be…

"Is this the first time you're watching Wilson be operated on?" Slick asked. "Cause, you saw me when Scotty was on the table."

"You were a pretty cool customer, actually," House said, remembering back to when he and Slick first met. "And I've seen Wilson operated on before." House related to Slick the story of Wilson donating part of his liver to his "friend," who later turned to be a scum bag who had left his wife for a much younger woman.

"Wilson, believing in true love and other fairy tales, thought the guy would go back to his wife, once there was a part of him in this guy."

"What's this I hear about you not believing in true love?" Lydia asked, looking at House as she entered the operating theater.

"I believe in it; but only with you," House said glancing down to see where things stood. "I just was saying that Cupid down there, has shot himself in the foot too many times."

"Dr. House?" House realized that Rayner was speaking to him again.

"Yeah, what can I do you for?" he asked as he took the coffee from Lydia. She handed the other coffee to Slick, then reached into one of the pockets on the scrubs, and pulled out the turkey sandwich he requested, wrapped in a napkin.

"I assume that the police want the bullets that we're removing from Dr. Wilson as evidence," Rayner said.

"Well, you know what happens when you assume…" began House. Rayner shot a quick glance up at House.

"I will be far better able to concentrate on doing the right thing for Dr. Wilson, if I don't have to deal with smart-assed remarks." House knew damned well that Rayner would do the best work possible; his reputation meant everything to him.

"What's the matter? Missed the 'How to Talk and Resect an Artery at the Same Time' class?" Both Chase and Foreman realized what House was doing: he was deflecting with sarcasm and humor so as to better help him deal with the situation. They understood him all too well; Rayner was another story. It was time to get House under control before there really was a problem.

"We'll bag and tag the bullets once they come out," Foreman said to Rayner. "If he has no need for them, I'm sure he'll know best how to dispose of them."

"House have you eaten anything yet?" Chase asked. House made a face as he pushed the intercom button.

"I thank you for your love and concern, Little Wombat, but I have Fraulein here to keep me on the straight and narrow," House said. Lydia came behind House and reached for the intercom.

"He's having a sandwich, some cookies and coffee," she said. "He'll be fine."

"See, I've got the little woman; why should you care?"

"House, Wilson needs plasma," Foreman said. "Our supply here is out; they're calling over to the county…"

"Call the blood lab," House said as he took a bite of the sandwich Lydia offered. "Tell them I'll be there in twenty minutes, or as soon as I can get two of these into me," House said holding up his sandwich.

"Suction!" Rayner said urgently.

"I'll have the nurse make the call," Foreman said.

"Greg, don't rush so much. You'll be of no use to James if you start throwing up," Lydia admonished.

"I heard a news story the other day that blood banks were calling for donations, that there was a shortage going on. I just never considered it a personal issue," House said as he took another bite.

"Greg, do you want something a little more sugary to drink, like a soda?" Lydia offered.

"Nah, Wilson's all sweetness and light as it is; he doesn't need any more," House said drinking his coffee.

"Maybe she meant it would counteract your natural personality," Slick said, trying not to laugh. "We don't want to see Wilson get any of that." House was looking down as they were preparing to start the procedure to remove the donor vein.

"Now is not the time to bust my chops," House began. "However, I can assure you my retribution will be terrible and swift…once I have time to dispense it." House looked at Lydia. "Why do I have the feeling that you haven't had anything to eat yet? That you've been too busy playing hostess with the mostest?"

"I'll tell you what, I'll escort this lovely lady back in to the nosh room, make her get some food onto a plate, then bring her and said plate back in here along with a chair," Slick offered.

"Works for me," House said as looked down into the operating room again.

"Be right back," Lydia said as she gave House a quick kiss. House paid no attention as she and Slick left the room; he was too busy watching Wilson's vitals. They didn't look wonderful, but they were normal for someone getting sliced up at the moment.

"How's it going?" House turned and saw Tom entering the room.

"Well enough for now. I'm waiting to see how long he's going to be a patient of yours," House said putting a cookie in his mouth.

"They're going to be working on the femoral artery for a while. Rayner said that he thought the top of the femur was shattered?" Tom asked.

"Yeah, Superman used his x-ray vision and saw all the bad stuff contained in Jimmy Olsen's leg," replied House. Tom started to laugh.

"Oh, lordy…if Wilson ever did want an acting career, casting him as Jimmy Olsen would be perfect!"

"It'd be the definition of typecasting," House said. He saw movement by the door; Lydia came in carrying a plate, and a can of soda in her pocket. Behind her was Thirteen carrying a chair.

"You know, Slick, you and Thirteen have to stop spending so much time together. You're beginning to look like each other."

"Very funny," Thirteen said as she set the chair down near House. Lydia sat down and placed her soda on the counter in front of her. "I just got a call from the lab about our patient; our other patient." Lydia looked quickly up at Thirteen, then at House. He caught the look and knew something was up.

"OK, let me guess; our patient isn't human…so is he animal, vegetable or mineral?" House asked.

"They don't know. The results on the culture of his wound are inconclusive for any known bacteria,fugngi, virus or parasites," Thirteen said. "They're going to rerun the tests."

"Have they tried checking for any unknown bacteria,fungi, virus or parasites?" House asked as he began to pace. It was clear to Lydia, Thirteen and Tom, that House was not happy. "Let this be a lesson as to why I make my team do our own lab work," he said, directing the comment to Lydia. "It's not the grown-up version of a time out. It's so we can get correct results and figure out what's wrong with the patient."

"House I do have the results from the metabolic panel; his white cell count is 32,000. They ran the tests twice to confirm." House had stopped pacing when Thirteen read off the number.

"That would be consistent with all the symptoms he's shown so far," Lydia said. "The high fever, the rapid heart rate, the seizure…"

"Leaving us with the question of what is turning him into a giant pus globule?" House glanced down at Wilson; his vitals were still good, and House could tell from the conversation that things were going well. "Any idea how his temps have been running?"

"The I.C.U. just sent a report; half an hour ago he was 103.4, the rest of his vitals were stable," Thirteen said. House closed his eyes and dropped his head down; he reached up and rubbed his eyes. He was not in the right place to be trying to diagnose this guy right now. He couldn't even order his team out to check on the guy's workplace and home. Lydia won't leave here right now. Chase, Taub and Foreman, even, were in the O.R. with Wilson. Thirteen couldn't possibly handle two fire houses, and the guy's home by herself. House knew a different tactic was called for.

"Increase the acetaminophen to 750 milligrams every four hours. If that plus 1000 milligrams of Levaquin doesn't knock down the fever to below 102, increase acetaminophen to 1000 milligrams." Thirteen looked around to Tom and Lydia.

"House, those are awfully high numbers you're dosing him with; are you sure…"

"He also has an awfully high number of white cells roaming around his body. Until someone can do their job right to isolate the cause, we have to do what we can to make sure he doesn't lose his leg or his life!" Thirteen nodded and walked out of the room. Tom started to make a move for the door.

"I'm going to get another cup," he said indicating his coffee. "Anyone want anything?" House didn't respond; Lydia shook her head and mouthed the words "No, thank you." She rose from her chair and walked over to House.

"Once Annie has James' parents here tomorrow, and he's in a room in I.C.U., I could take some time to go over to the young man's home and see what I can find. Of course, I'd feel better about it if someone from the team went with me," Lydia suggested. House thought for a moment.

"Yeah, anything would be better than just sitting around here. But you're definitely going over with a team member; you wouldn't be able to handle it by yourself." Lydia looked away and tried not to take House's comment as an insult. "Your phone can handle Skype, can't it?"

"Yes. I've only used it a few times, but it works beautifully."

"Good. I'm going to the blood lab to play vampire victim. Wilson needs plasma, and they're going to get it from me…"

"Can you…" Lydia interrupted.

"Yes, I can donate plasma to anyone; being AB positive, I'm a universal plasma donor. I'll call you on Skype once I'm set up over there, then you can hold you phone up to the window so I can see and hear what's going on." Lydia was a little taken back. She wanted to stay near Annie, but didn't want Annie coming into the room to see or hear what was happening.

"Alright. When James' parents get here, they can keep an eye on Annie and I can do this," she said. House nodded and took his phone out. He looked at it curiously.

"Damn!" he said as he pushed some buttons on the phone.

"What's the matter?"

"Missed some calls about an hour and a half ago. Among them was my mother's cardiologist."

"But…I spoke to Reverend Bell just before everything happened at the restaurant. What happened?" Lydia asked. She was afraid; this was the last thing House needed right now.

"How the hell do I know what happened? I'm still trying to figure out if I even care if she lives or dies," House said pacing rapidly back and forth. He took off further down the hallway away from everyone.

"What happened?" Thirteen asked. She came out of the waiting room along with Tom and Slick.

"I don't know yet; but it can't be anything good. It's about Greg's mother."

"Oh, great," said Slick. "There'll be no dealing with him now." Suddenly, Lydia's phone began to ring...

"Hello? Yes, Smitty. Oh, wonderful." Lydia pulled the phone away. "James' parents are here."

"I'll go down and get them," Thirteen said. She hurried for the staircase rather than waiting for the elevator.

"Smitty? Dr. Hadley is coming down to take charge of Dr. Wilson's parents. Yes. Yes, I will, Smitty. Thank you." Lydia ended the call. "He's such a nice gentleman," Lydia said as she put the phone back in her pocket. "Annie?" Lydia said when she got to the doorway of the waiting room. "James' parents are here."

"I feel so bad for them; they must be so upset," Annie said as she came out to the hall. "I know James is very worried about his dad's heart."

"You'll take care of them, just like you promised," Lydia said putting her arm around Annie's shoulders. She turned and saw House walking toward them.

"Remember those two arteries that were just a little bit clogged a couple of months ago and could be dealt with by using medicine instead of Roto-Rooter and stents?" House asked Lydia. "Well it seems someone made the wrong call. She went into arrhythmia a little while ago; they had to paddle her to bring her back to a normal sinus rhythm. They did an echocardiogram…her Ejection Fraction is thirty-two."

"That's bad?" Annie asked. House gave her a sarcastic smile.

"How are they going to handle it?" Tom asked.

"Well, if she didn't have a stroke in the last forty-eight hours, they'd do a catheterization on her, and see where the plumbing's clogged. As it is, she still has the shunt in to relieve the pressure in her head; they haven't been able to control the bleed yet. They were going to take another look when this happened." Lydia reached up and put her hand on House's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, hon." House nodded. The ding of the bell signaling the arriving elevator could be heard. The doors opened and Wilson's parents and Thirteen stepped out. House hadn't seen them in a while, but other than looking a bit worse for the wear upon hearing their son was shot, they appeared to be OK, even the father.

"Hi, Mr. Wilson," Annie said as she stepped forward to hug him. Wilson's dad simply raised one hand and patted her on the back, which was the last thing she needed. House noticed he gave Annie a funny look as she went to hug Wilson's mother. "Mrs. Wilson, are you OK?" Annie asked. She could tell something was wrong by the cool reception they were giving her. They're probably both still in shock, Annie thought to herself. Mrs. Wilson's face had turned beet red, tears welling up in her eyes.

"How…how can you just…stand there and…and…embrace us like that…when this is all your fault!"

"

L


	5. Chapter 5

"Life and Limb"

Chapter Five – "Tripping Over Your Own Two Feet"

By: Purpleu

"How could you even think that this was Annie's fault?" Lydia exclaimed. House had stepped back into the observation room, but came out when he heard Lydia's voice raise in volume.

"I don't know who you are, but we spoke directly to James' best friend, Dr. House," Claudia Wilson said looking at him. "He told us exactly what happened." House quickly realized there was no rock big enough on the face of the earth for him to crawl under.

"How he could since he wasn't even there?" Lydia questioned. House took a deep breath and turned to to Wilson's parents.

"I think it's time for a visit to an ENT to clear out the wax and replace the batteries in your hearing aids. Maybe a cognitive ability test might be in order, too." he said. "What I told you was that Wilson and the songbird were mugged on their way into a restaurant. The guy who mugged them was pissed that she didn't hand over her necklace fast enough; so he went after her, and Wilson jumped in to defend her. They struggled for the gun, that's when he got shot," House concluded. "How that led you to think that I said this was Medusa's fault, I don't know." The Wilsons looked both upset and embarrassed.

"I…I'm sorry. We get a call from Annie, crying hysterically…we could barely make out what she was saying, other than James was shot and we should get to the hospital immediately. We…we didn't know what to think…" Mrs. Wilson started sobbing. Her husband put his arm around her.

"Calm down, Claudia, calm down," he said rubbing her shoulder. He looked around at everyone. "Where is James now?"

"In surgery," Lydia answered. "Dr. House has been observing the operation and talking to the surgeons. Two of his team members are down there as well."

"Three," corrected House as he watched the activity in the O.R. "Taub just walked in with Ellis."

"You can see him being operated on from there?" Mrs. Wilson said indicating House's position by the window.

"Every bloody second." Mrs. Wilson began sobbing again; at this point, there wasn't one person in the group who didn't want to stuff a gag in House's mouth, even Lydia.

"Why don't we have a seat in here?" Annie said guiding Wilson's mother to the waiting room. "Do you want something to drink or eat?"

"Just some water, thank you," Claudia Wilson said.

"I'll take some coffee, if you don't mind," Henry Wilson said. "Light, no sugar."

"I'll get that," Lydia said. As she passed by Wilson's mother, she reached out to Lydia.

"I'm so sorry for my tone with you before, but…that's my son," Mrs. Wilson said dropping her head. "My only son."

"Liar, liar, family history on fire," House said walking back into the room to grab a few cookies. "You have a pair of spares; they just don't write home as much as you'd like them to." The Wilson's looked mortified. "You must have some kind of magical power; the two of you show pity for the sons that ignore you and run away. Jim-Bob falls all over himself to make sure he stays in your good graces, and all you can do is heap on guilt." Henry Wilson had sat down next to his wife; he now rose up and faced House.

"I think now is neither the time nor the place to discuss any personal business of my family," he said firmly.

"Yeah, well, as I was saying to Fraulein before, I'm not really good at caring about the rules of time and place," House said popping another cookie in his mouth. He turned to Thirteen who had gone past him and was in the observation room. "Any change?"

"Vitals are still good, Rayner's still working."

"It wouldn't be very sporting of him if he took a coffee break in the middle of things." House looked at Wilson's father. "Terribly sorry if I'm upsetting you; not feeling like my usual perky self," he said sarcastically. "You know what the problem is? Goes back to that whole proper time and place thing. Fraulein and I should have taken advantage of the fact that we were both naked in the shower before; I'd probably be in a better mood right now if we did." Lydia closed her eyes and visibly cringed. She was in the process of giving Mr. Wilson his cup of coffee, and as his hand touched hers, she felt the need to explain things.

"The four of us, James, Annie, Greg, and myself, were supposed to have dinner together. Greg was delayed because of a patient that was just admitted. James picked up Annie, I drove myself over to the restaurant." Lydia felt herself beginning to tear up and did her best to keep things under control. She finished the rest of the story of the shooting and their arrival at the hospital, as well as House's and his team's efforts to save Wilson's life. She explained that she couldn't get the bandages wet, so House helped her take a shower to clean up. "He's my boyfriend," she quickly added.

"Now I understand who you are; you're Annie's best friend," Claudia Wilson said nodding her head. "You…you got hurt helping James; you helped save his life." Claudia shook her head back and forth. "You're Linda?"

"No, Lydia."

"Linda was my sister," Annie said. She sat down next to Wilson's mother and reached over for her hand.

"Yes, I remember you telling me that," she said squeezing Annie's hand. It was clear to see the Wilsons were very fond of Annie; Mrs. Wilson's earlier outburst was that of a scared and desperate mother. She looked up at Lydia. "I'm so sorry you got hurt, but I'm so grateful for what you did." Lydia hesitated for a moment.

"James is the love of Annie's life, Greg's best friend for over twenty years…and he's my dear friend, too. There was no way I was going to let him die. Not if I could help it."

"Your hands," Henry Wilson said, sitting back down and ignoring House. "They got hurt when you tried to stop the bleeding?"

"The bullets were still very hot right after being fired; I made contact with them when I put pressure on the femoral artery. Greg got hurt, too; he was in the lobby when the ambulance got here and he ran to the E.R. He got cuts and bruises from falling as he went along. He was so upset, he forgot his cane at the reception desk." Lydia thought she should try and do something to resurrect House's reputation with the Wilsons.

"Your head?" Mr. Wilson asked. "How…" Lydia thought she had said what happened enough times to enough people to hold it together, but that was not the case.

"He…the guy…ran into me after shooting James. He…he put the gun to…my head and…" House had moved to Lydia, looking over his shoulder quickly at Thirteen who gave him a thumbs up.

"He asked her if she was ready to die," House said quietly putting his arm around her.

"What?" Slick said. "You didn't tell us that part!"

"That son-of-a-bitch! That mother…" Tom began to say, then realized the Wilsons were there. "Sorry."

"No need to be," Henry said. "You poor thing," he said placing his hand on Lydia's arm. "The burn on your forehead is from the barrel of the gun, I take it."

"Luckily, the gun either misfired or he was out of bullets, we don't know which," Lydia said as she sniffled. House reached for a napkin and gave it to Lydia.

"So, James was shot in the…femoral…artery?" Henry asked.

"Same artery you had your catheterization in," Lydia explained. "He has two bullets in there, and one in his hip. He will most likely need a hip replacement."

"Oh, my God…he's such a…a young man to have that!" Mrs. Wilson exclaimed.

"Which gives him the best chance to make a complete recovery," Tom said. "He's young enough, strong enough, and motivated enough," he said stroking the top of Annie's head, "To do the therapy with the needed strength."

"This is Tom," Annie explained. She then went into detail about Tom's disabilities and his work as a therapist and physician's assistant. Annie wanted the Wilson's to understand that Tom was not only good at his job, but sympathetic enough to handle Wilson gently, but firmly.

"So, you'll be able to help him get full use of his legs back?" Mrs. Wilson asked. Tom looked away.

"After the traumatic injury he's suffered in the leg as well as the hip, it will take a while and it will never be perfect. But, if Wilson's willing to put in the work, I'll do everything I can to help him feel that it's as good as can be." The flow of conversation was interrupted as House loudly cleared his throat.

"Fraulein, I've got to get to the blood lab so I can become one with Wilson. If you don't get a Skype call from me in five, ten minutes….we'll have to come up with some other way to communicate." Lydia wiped her face.

"You and Wilson have the same blood type? He must love the irony of that," Slick said.

"The irony is, he's the universal donor; I'm the universal recipient when it comes to whole blood. With plasma, nobody checks your ticket before they let you in the gate," House said.

"Don't they have any plasma for him here?" Tom asked.

"I've seen some of the donors…not too inclined to trust where their last cheap thrill came from."

"I'll walk with you to the elevators. Be right back." Despite her bandaged fingers, she reached for House's hand as they left the waiting room.

"Still good?" he asked Thirteen.

"Looks like he did a nice, small keyhole to pull out the saphenous vein. Can't be absolutely sure from up here, but…so far, so good." House nodded.

"I'm going to be attacked by vampires disguised as phlebotomists; she'll be back in a few minutes to help me play candid camera."

"Lydia, have you eaten yet?" Thirteen asked. "I don't remember seeing you with anything to eat or drink."

"I had some water and a slice of pound cake," Lydia said. "I haven't seen you eat either."

"Make you a deal: when you come back, I'll get something for both of us." Lydia smiled.

"Thanks. Please make sure Annie eats, too. I don't think she's eaten a thing."

"Tom and Slick are playing mother hen to everyone in there," House observed as he watched the activities in the waiting room. "She'll be fine." He started leading Lydia down the hall to elevators that were nearest the blood lab.

"Hon? Why do you keep calling Annie Medusa? She had snakes for hair and could turn people to stone just by looking at them. That's not very nice," Lydia noted. House sighed.

"With that wild mass of curls, they look reptilian sometimes. As far as turning people to stone? I'm sure there's one part of Wilson that she has that effect on." Lydia smiled a little, but it was less than the reaction House expected: no jab back at him, no playful reprimand. Despite the fact she was the one who initiated the hand holding, he knew her well enough by now to know that there was something bothering her. "Can I ask you to do me a favor?" House asked.

"Of course."

"Whatever bug you have up your butt, be it ant or dung beetle, could you put it back in its cage until all of this is over? Because I don't have time to exterminate random emotions right now." Lydia was taken back.

"I wasn't aware of the fact that I was doing anything that could be described as having a bug up my butt. What did I say or do?" She was neither mad nor hurt; she just didn't know where House was coming from.

"Didn't say you did or said anything; just that someone's got your knickers in a twist, and I don't want to deal with it right now." House glanced at Lydia. "Although I have a feeling it was me that caused this lovely mood that's written all over your face." Lydia stopped walking just short of the elevators; she stared down at the floor and took several deep breaths.

"When we were alone in the shower, it was very…comforting to me; not just because the water felt good, or that your hands felt good on me, which they did, believe me. It was the fact that without saying a word, you let me know how much you were concerned for me, that you loved me. It was a very intimate moment in a non-sexual way and in the midst of all this madness, it was wonderful. It was just what I needed." Lydia looked up at House. "I thought…I hoped…that you felt calmed, at least for a few minutes, too." House looked away from Lydia.

"I was; if it wasn't for the industrial design of the room, I could have relaxed even more, forgotten where we were. I felt you relaxing, and I'm glad that I'm the one to blame for that. So, since we're all loosey goosey…what's wrong?" House was trying to read her face, at the same time he was trying to turn around to face the elevator which was only a few feet away.

"When you made the comment to James' father about our being in the shower, it was crass, it was crude…it was you," Lydia said with a smile. "But when you…blabbed it out there for everyone to hear, it lost its intimacy. I felt like it was just a joke or something…" Lydia put her hands up to her head. "Oh, God, I sound like an idiot. I'm sorry, everything is just getting to me." She looked up at House. "When I think about what it would mean if anything happened to any one of the four of us…" She shook her head. "The other three would be devastated." Lydia reached up with the back of her hand and wiped away the tears. "I just feel so lucky that we have each other…" She saw the look on House's face, and knew she had already spent too much time explaining herself. "Come on, you need to get to the lab." She took a few steps toward the elevator and pushed the call button. House came alongside her; she was staring up at the floor indicator for the elevator.

"You call it lucky to have your guts ripped out and shoved back in your throat as one gelatinous mass? I can think of a few other descriptions for it starting with 'sucky.'"

"It's the chance you take when you open yourself up to other people and let them inside. Most of the time, life doesn't happen the way it has tonight. Tonight has just been…" Lydia started to tear up again. House reached over and turned Lydia so she faced him.

"You didn't sound like an idiot before. You sound emotional; which, like I said, is something I can't deal with right now. I usually can't deal with it too well even if things are good; right now…" He looked at the still closed elevator doors. "The thought that I could have lost either you or Wilson tonight is unnerving enough; both of you?" House shook his head and looked at the floor. The elevator hadn't arrived yet, so he pushed the call button again.

"Aren't you the person who scorns the 'coulda, woulda, shoulda' approach to things?" Lydia asked.

"Yeah, but since when do I ever follow my own advice?" replied House. Lydia put her hands on his shoulders.

"I'm here, and in a few days I'm going to be fine," she said. "James is going to be OK, too. He has the best possible doctors available to help him, including yourself and your team. His road to recovery is going to be a bit longer than mine; but he'll be OK. With Tom as his therapist and you as his practice buddy? He can't lose." House nodded his head as he looked at the floor. Finally, the elevator arrived.

"Are you up to walking with me to the lab?" House asked as he entered the elevator.

"Sure." Lydia entered the car; House hit the button for the floor the lab was located on.

"There was something that happened before that I didn't understand," Lydia said. "Why were you so nasty to James' parents? I was under the impression that you got along well with them. What was that all about?"

"Obviously the songbird didn't mention this to you; according to Wilson, she knows about it." House sighed. "I'm sure he won't mind if you know. He was warm for your form when he first met you, so a few secrets shared among almost daters is OK." Lydia gave House a look.

"James wasn't ever interested in me," she said dismissively.

"Oh yes he was. He asked me for your phone number in case things didn't work out between the two of us. But then I made it clear that I had already branded you," House said with a smile, which quickly faded as he saw that Lydia appeared to be pleased that Wilson had a thing for her. "Wishing you had a chance to walk on the mild side?"

"No; not used to have two men after me at once," she teased. "But he didn't stand a chance." Lydia reached up and gave House a kiss. "You still haven't told me why you were mad at James' folks." The elevator arrived at its stop; as they stepped into the hallway, House looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. He told Lydia what Wilson told him at the pizza place: the abuse by the family friend and the blame assigned him when it was discovered his brothers were also victims of abuse.

"This was the first time that I had seen them since the big reveal," House said. "I had time over the last couple of days to think about what I had witnessed at his parents' house when I traveled with him back to the old homestead. I also thought over the incidents he had told me about when he went back by himself. Why continue to bash the one kid who didn't blame you for bringing Mr. Touchy-Feely into the fold? He's the best and brightest of the offspring. Why make him bend over backwards for your approval, which never did really come; why push him further away?" Lydia looked down at the floor.

"Are you asking that question about James…or yourself? Maybe you two have more in common from your childhood than you think." House stopped walking and looked at Lydia.

"It's why he never wanted to talk about the crap I went through as a kid; he was afraid I was someone's boytoy. I never asked him about anything because I recognized the signs." House began walking again. "I could tell he knew what it felt like to be pushed around and blamed for every little thing that went wrong."

"So that's the big break though that happened Monday night when you two went out. He told you about the abusive situation he dealt with, which confirmed your suspicions. And he admitted it's why he could never talk to you about your problems," Lydia said. "I guess the two of you must feel better now that you've talked things out." They had reached the door of the lab; House reached for the handle.

"No, all it did was make Wilson feel worse; it was the open acknowledgement of the guilt he carried for both situations."

"Didn't you tell him you forgave him for not being there for you?" House hung his head down.

"No, I didn't." Before Lydia could say anything else, House entered the phlebotomy lab; Lydia stepped in behind him.

"Dr. House?" A woman wearing a white lab coat came over to them. "We had gotten a call from Dr. Foreman saying that you would be coming up to donate plasma for Dr. Wilson. How is he doing?"

"He'll be doing a lot better once we get my plasma into him," House said in a curt tone. He surveyed the scene in front of him; there were stretchers everywhere, some next to machines, some not. "Which bunk is mine?"

"This one here will be fine," the tech said. "My name is Helen, and I'll be…"

"I'm not interested in the niceties; I'm a doctor, I've seen this done before, I've done it before. You're not going to faint from amazement when giving me a bed bath; that's not on the program. Just get me hooked up to the damn machine or there won't be a Dr. Wilson to give my plasma to." The tech was about to question House's directive, when Lydia interrupted her.

"I'd suggest you hurry and get things going," she said. Lydia held up one bandaged hand and pushed aside her bangs with the other. "You have no idea what he's like when he's angry." Helen, the tech, looked wide-eyed, back and forth between Lydia's up-held hand and House's stern face.

"Come on, chop-chop! Let's get a move on!" House said. Helen was completely rattled.

"I'll be right back to set things up." She hurried away to a supply closet across the room. There were two other techs in the room; they went over to talk to Helen in whispered tones, with nervous glances over their shoulders.

"You do realize that you've probably opened us up to a visit from Social Services wanting to investigate domestic abuse," House said as he settled his head back on the pillow and placed his cane between his legs. Lydia shrugged.

"Maybe; but I can get rid of them easily. I'll just tell them that's something from my past that I know I'll never have to deal with ever again." She leaned over and gave House a gentle kiss. Sensing his being uncomfortable, she said quietly, "Don't worry; I made sure no one was looking. Let's check out your Skype connection." House fiddled with his phone until Skype came up; Lydia did the same with hers.

"Looks good to me," House said "Step away and make sure the speakers work." Lydia opened the door to the lab and stepped outside.

"So tell me, Boris: Where are Moose and Squirrel?" Bending his head down so the tech wouldn't see him laughing, he looked into the camera of his phone.

"Natasha, I didn't know you had interchangeable nationalities," House said faking a bad Russian accent and smiling. Lydia had caught him completely off-guard.

"They sound close enough to the untrained ear; only a cunning linguist like you would know the difference."

"If I didn't have company…" he threatened.

"Promises, promises," Lydia said with a smile. "I'm going to head back down to the observation area. Try not to be too hard on the woman, Greg. She's just doing her job."

"Yeah, and I'm doing mine," he replied. "See you later." Lydia could sense House's mood changing back to somber. She knew he would feel better once she was set up to send him a view of what was going on in the operating room; there was no point in trying to offer any more words of comfort. She hurried down the hall to the elevator. Fidgeting back and forth as she waited for the car, she suddenly heard a voice.

"This is tough on a body to start with; are you trying to make me seasick?" Lydia looked down; she forgot that she and House were hooked up and her nervous dance could be seen.

"I'm sorry, I just want this damn elevator to get here," Lydia said closing her eyes. At last, there was a "ding," and the doors opened. Lydia hurried inside. "Which floor were we on?"

"Fifth, in the Gardner Pavilion. Make the first right after you get out of the elevator, the second left, and you're in the right hallway." Lydia did as House directed and found herself in the long hall that led to the observation area. She was surprised as she got closer, to see that Marianne was there. The last thing Lydia knew, the kids were with her…

"Mommy!" Lydia didn't even have time to react, when House spoke up.

"What the hell are they doing here? They're the last things we need right now!" Not thinking that his voice could be heard by all, House did nothing to control his tone or his words. Luckily, the kids were so overjoyed at seeing their mother, that they paid no attention to the voice coming from Lydia's phone.

"Sweeties! I'm so glad to see you!" Lydia said as she repeatedly kissed and hugged her children. She tried her best not to cry, but it was no use.

"Mommy, are you OK?" Elise asked. The child's face was tear-stained. "The man on TV said you got shot." The little girl started to cry.

"They said that Wilson got shot, too." Ben said. "But they didn't say anything about Aunt Annie or House; we got scared."

"Television is called a medium because it is neither rare nor well done," House said. "I forget who said that but boy, did they get it right." House let out a sigh. "Fraulein, give the phone to Thirteen," he shouted as loud as he could. Sounds of the tech admonishing House to calm down and hold still could be heard through the phone.

"Lydia, I'll take it," Thirteen said as she came out of the observation room. Lydia handed the phone over and went back to comforting her children. "I'm here, House. Everything is going well. Dr. Ellis should be taking over in the next half an hour to an hour. Being Wilson's healthcare proxy, he wanted to go over something with you."

"Let me have a look at the O.R. and then put the phone up near the speaker. You'll do the button pushing," House said.

"Hmm," Thirteen said. "Button pushing is usually your department."

"Be kind to me; I'm having the life sucked out of me and shoved back in again. That won't make for a very happy person."

"You mean everything will go back to normal," Thirteen said as she put the phone up to the window in the observation room. House could see that Rayner was finishing the placement of the saphenous vein. Everything looked good, everything looked under control.

"Let me talk to Ellis," House told Thirteen. She pushed the button on the intercom and held Lydia's phone up to it.

"The disembodied voice you are now hearing is that of a brave man slowly turning a whiter shade of pale." Foreman looked up.

"House? Where are you?" he asked.

"Phlebotomy lab. And if I get any more blood sucked out of me, my brain will function at the level of the rest of you mere mortals," House replied. "They've got me hooked up and the draining process has started. My donation toward turning Wilson into Superman should be there in a little while. Dr. Ellis, Thirteen tells me you have the $64,000 question to ask me; although I would think with inflation we could push that up to at least an even $100,000." Ellis was obviously a very mellow person; there was a definite hint of amusement in his response to House.

"Yes, Dr. House, I might even have a bonus for you if you get this next question right." House had only worked with Ellis a few times, but he had a reputation as a straight-shooter and good at what he did.

"What's going on?" House asked.

"Dr. Rayner is going to be finished with his handiwork soon. I just want you to be aware that I will be placing a titanium/polymer composite replacement unit in Dr. Wilson. There is the possibility of a titanium/ceramic unit, if you prefer; but my recommendation is for the first one. It's the most durable, and since Dr. Wilson is a young man…"

"He's not that young; there are plenty of gray hairs if you know the right places to look. Or so his girlfriend tells me." Dr. Ellis chuckled.

"I'd hate to think it would be first-hand knowledge," he said. "So, I have your agreement and consent to place the titanium/polymer unit into Dr. Wilson's right hip."

"Wouldn't it be a lot cheaper if we just took the hip from one of those plastic teaching skeletons? My son has one hanging in his bedroom and it looks pretty good to me." You could hear a pin drop in both the O.R. and the observation room.

"Dr. House, I wasn't aware you have a son," Dr. Ellis said cautiously.

"I don't think he knew he had a son until a minute ago," Chase quipped.

"Very funny," House said, the annoyance in his voice coming through loud and clear. "I'm getting woozy from having my blood sucked out and rammed back in. I meant to say my _girlfriend's _son." Ellis could hear that House's voice sounded strained; he decided it was best not to bust chops.

"It would be a lot cheaper and easier if we could use the throw away parts the students work on, but the more developed model would be best. And I know you want the best for Dr. Wilson," Ellis said.

"Yeah, obviously," answered House. "Although I am looking forward to actually having some competition in the hospital's annual 'Gimps with Canes' marathon."

"If you would have the operation that Tom recommended for you, neither one of you would be walking with canes," Foreman noted.

"Can I deal with just one of the problems in my universe at a time? I'm good, but I'm not at the top of my game at the moment." House's voice was sounding weaker by the moment.

"Greg, are you sure you're OK to do this?" Lydia asked. She had been wafting back and forth between the waiting room and the observation area. She heard how the strength of House's voice was changing. "We could call over to Princeton General or the county blood bank…"

"No! I'm…I'm fine. It's been awhile since I've done this; I'm out of practice." Lydia took a piece of paper and wrote the words, "When did he last donate plasma?" on it, and showed it to Thirteen. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. Lydia made a mental note to ask House about that later on.

"Mom?" Lydia turned and saw her son at the door to the room. "Can I come in and say hello?"

"Tell him Wilson won't be very talkative; anesthesia's got his tongue. And the rest of him, too," House said. Lydia laughed.

"I think it's you he wants to talk to," she said. "I'm going to keep an eye on the O.R. while Thirteen gets something for us to eat. Ben will have my phone; if there's anything you need to see, I'll take it back right away." House was not going to argue; he trusted Lydia's judgment, and he was too worn out to disagree. Lydia handed her son the phone and had him sit in a chair that faced away from the viewing window. Thirteen saw that everything was good, so she left the room to retrieve some food and drinks.

"Hi, House," Ben said. The boy felt a little awkward; it had been decided recently that Ben and Elise could simply call him House, that the formality of "doctor" was not a necessity; they were told they could just say "Wilson," too. But Ben thought that just "House" lacked the respect he felt for him. It should either be Dr. House or something else that Ben would really like to call him…

"Hey, Doogie. What are you doing here? It's past your bedtime," said House. Ben could see by the picture that was coming through his mother's phone that House was in definite discomfort.

"We were watching the Scooby-Doo movie on TV, and they broke in with this story about there being a shooting at the restaurant that you guys were going to tonight," the boy explained. "They said that Wilson was shot, and Mom was shot, and that there were other people who were hurt. They didn't say it was you or Aunt Annie, but we bugged Aunt Marianne to bring us here; we wanted to see you guys. We were scared," Ben admitted.

"Well, I wasn't even over there when all hell broke loose; there was a clinic patient that came in with an infected leg and a high fever; he decided to code on top of everything else. Because the nature of the infection was unusual, he was admitted under my team. He's actually your mom's patient." Ben turned to his mother with widened eyes.

"Really? You have your own patient? That's so cool! What caused his infection?"

"That's what we have to figure out," Lydia said. "There are many places he could have gotten…"

"Did you break into his house yet? That's the way Dr. House's team usually does it." House realized that one day the kid was actually going be able to see something on a case that his team couldn't, simply for the fact that the kid came in with an unclouded point of view. But for now…

"We haven't had a chance to do much of anything. He just came in this afternoon, and this whole little cops and robbers thing kinda got in the way. I was going to have your mom go over to his house tomorrow..."

"Can I go with her?" House let out a sigh.

"Got a little too much happening around here, kid. Maybe on the next search and seizure." Ben saw House change position and wince in pain as he did.

"Are you alright? You said you weren't at the restaurant, but you look hurt." The boy's concern for House was apparent and genuine; even House felt it.

"I'm OK. I'm busy donating plasma for Wilson…you remember what we talked about with different parts of blood, right?"

"Yeah, red blood cells, white blood cells, platelets, plasma…."

"Right. General rule: for every two units of blood, you give a patient one unit of plasma. Wilson's already had two units of whole blood, so…"

"How does getting the plasma out of you happen?" Ben asked. House proceeded with explanations for all of the boy's questions, and they were many. He never minded taking to the kid about medical topics especially, but many other things, too. The child was bright enough to absorb both the simple and not so simple answers that House gave him. It made Lydia feel very good to hear how they got along. Amazingly, House did well with Elise, too, mainly on the topic of music. So it didn't surprise her that House referred to Ben as his son or Elise as his daughter. She found out about the supermarket incident from her little girl; unbeknownst to House, Elise heard what he said and told her mother. House was a better father figure than even he realized, but Lydia knew he wasn't necessarily ready to accept the role formally. All in due time, she said to herself crossing her fingers, all in due time. Now, as much as the two were obviously enjoying their talk, Lydia began to hear in House's voice that he was getting tired. She had finished eating the food that Thirteen had brought in to her, and felt she had more energy to keep going.

"Honey, why don't you go back into the waiting room and check on Aunt Annie? I think House needs to rest a bit," Lydia said as she took her son's hand. He looked down at the bandages around her fingers; she sensed his hesitation in leaving her. "Ben, I'm OK, sweetie. Go back to Aunt Annie." Ben nodded.

"Bye House; I hope everything goes OK."

"Bye," House said wearily. As Ben exited the room, Elise appeared in the doorway.

"Can I say hello to House?" she asked in a small voice. "I wanna make sure he's not hurt." Lydia smiled at her daughter's concern, but she knew House was in no mood to deal with any more questions or small talk.

"Baby, he's fine. He's just a little too busy and tired right now…"

"Let me talk to her." Lydia was startled to hear House make the request, but she handed the phone to Elise. "Hey, Curly Top; I hear you're worried about me."

"Yeah, me and Ben were watching a movie with Tommy and Shelly, and a man came on the TV and said a bad man shot Mommy and Wilson, but we didn't know if you and Aunt Annie were OK." The little girl's eyes began to water. "I was scared I'd never see you again." House closed his eyes.

"Well, as you can see, I'm here, and I'm fine. Besides, I haven't finished teaching you your part on 'Muddy Chopsticks.' How could anything happen to me?" Elise smiled at the mention of the blues version of chopsticks that House came up with for the two of them to play together.

"I know, and I'm getting really good," the girl said happily.

"Eh…you're not there yet. Why don't you go back and make your Aunt Annie feel better and let me talk to Mommy?"

"OK." Elise started to hand the phone to her mother, but then took it back. "I'm glad you're OK and I hope Wilson is alright, too." There was silence for a moment; Lydia thought maybe House had dozed off.

"Thanks," he finally said. Lydia took the phone and watched as her daughter went back to the waiting room.

"That was very nice of you to talk to her, Hon; I know you're in no shape right now…"

"To be nice? No, not to the general population, ever. I'm willing to make an exception with your kids; don't ask me why." Lydia heard the grunt of pain come through the phone.

"You're hurting from all the falls you had earlier," Lydia noted. "Do you want me to see if Tom has something that you can take?"

"Yeah, a handful or two of Vicodin would be good right now." House saw Lydia's phone turn away from the window and come to face her.

"If I thought for one second you could really just take it once and then never again, I'd ask him for it, but…"

"No," House said quickly seeing the look on her face. "I wouldn't trust myself in the current mental state I'm in. See what he thinks I can take, though; I'm going to need something." Lydia nodded.

"I'm going to give him the phone to hold up to the window for a bit. I want to try and convince the kids to go back home with Marianne. It did me a lot of good to see them and hold them, but I want them to go to school tomorrow."

"Come on have a heart, Mom," House said in a whinny voice. "It's late and they're yards ahead of the rest of the class to start with. You don't really think they'll be able to concentrate, do you?" Lydia smiled.

"So, you're taking their side in this argument? Even after you made it loud and clear you didn't want them here?" House realized he probably sounded like a jerk yelling out that they shouldn't be there; but he was glad they were. Lydia hadn't said a word, but he knew she wanted and needed to see them, so it all worked out for the best.

"I said that as the needle was piercing my skin. Besides, I wish I could curl up and stay in bed tomorrow; especially with the right company. Namely you."

"Well, it better not be anyone else. Let me go talk to them, I'll get Tom in here."

"Fraulein?"

"Hmm?" House winced inwardly so she wouldn't see it. He really didn't want to ask this question, but knew he had to.

"Where were you when I was talking to Ellis before?" Lydia knew exactly what he was getting at.

"I was in and out of the viewing room mainly in."

"So you heard…"

"Yes; you have a son…and a daughter." There was silence from House's end. "Elise heard you when you were in the supermarket."

"Crap!" House spat out. "Did the boy hear…"

"No. But you have nothing to worry about. I've talked to them about this subject. They know you're not ready for certain titles or to say certain things, like 'I love you.' They also know that you slipping and calling them your son or daughter…well, that's your own way of saying you care about them." House sighed.

"How do you get all of that out of two simple words totaling eleven letters? You ever consider trying out for 'Wheel of Fortune?'"

"You just keep in mind: that little slip of the tongue meant a lot to the kids," Lydia said gently. It was times like this when she saw him slowly giving in to idea of loving her kids that Lydia fell even more in love with House.

"Funny, my slips of the tongue usually mean a lot to you," House said, licking his lips as he knew Lydia was looking at the phone. Lydia bit her lip.

"Let me get Tom." Lydia called out his name, and he came out of the waiting room.

"What's up?"

"Greg wanted to talk to you," Lydia said handing him the phone. "He's hurting badly and wants to see what he can take." Tom nodded and took the phone.

"Hey, House. How's the blood sucking going?"

"I'd be a lot more pleasant if I didn't have an up close look at your ear canal." Tom had forgotten that the phone was set up on Skype.

"Whoops! Sorry about that." Tom pulled the phone away and saw House's face in the screen. "Want me to hold this up to the window? Or just give you a play by play like Elise does in the backyard?" The kids had taken to draping a tarp over the back fence, setting up a table and their karaoke microphone, and Elise did her best impression of Al Michaels, sportscaster par excellence, while the boys played soccer and Shelly played the part of referee.

"Has Rayner finished yet?" House asked.

"Looks like he's just finishing up; Ellis seems ready to dive in. Wilson's vitals are good, not great. At least his O2 sats are up to ninety-three, BP is on the low side, but steady, pulse is seventy." Tom heard a groan come through the phone, he looked down and saw the pain on House's face. "Once you get back down here, I'll get you something to help deal with the pain. It'll be a temporary fix to get you through till it's time for your regular pills."

"Taub had gotten Fraulein and Medusa some fast-release six-hundred milligram Motrin earlier to help them deal with their wounds. Maybe I can snag one of them. He brought them six pills; unless they're taking them the way I used to, there should be some to share."

"Yeah, that should hold you until it's time for your Celebrex and Cymbalta. What were you going to give the ladies after the first dose of Motrin?"

A regular regimen of eight-hundred milligrams extended release for a few days. If they still have pain they can use the over the counter stuff. Unless the wizard of all ways to relieve pain and suffering has a better idea." Tom laughed.

"Works for me. So, tell me…how did it feel to run again?"

"The reason sucked and I stumbled along like a raging drunk without any of the benefits." House paused and closed his eyes. "But it felt good."

"Now, if with the little bit of work I've done with you, and the proper meds in your system, you were able to do that…"

"We are not going down that road right now," House growled. "There are too many other chain saws I'm trying to juggle to be thinking about me and my mangled limb. I've got too many other lives in my hands."

"OK, not a problem," Tom said quickly realizing House was in no mood for the subject. "But, I gotta tell you: I'm really thrilled that you did that."

"Yay for me," House said. Tom saw him look up and over to his left. "I think I should be finished here in fifteen minutes." Tom turned the phone around and put it up to the window.

"Perfect timing," Tom noted. House looked and saw that Rayner had left the O.R. and Ellis had just started to work. There was a marked difference in the atmosphere in the operating theater. The tension felt with Rayner was gone, and a casual, yet still professional feeling took over.

"This should take about two hours. Then the waiting game starts again outside of recovery," House said.

"Are you going to put Wilson in Surgical I.C.U., or regular I.C.U.?"

"Regular; the patient we admitted through the clinic is there already. Be easier to keep an eye on both this way."

"Yeah, Lydia was telling me about that; a deflated calf? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were yanking my chain."

"It almost became a deflated body when he coded. Fraulein handled it pretty well."

"House?" Tom dropped his voice. "She was saying she made the wrong call about something with Wilson? She seemed really upset. What happened?"

"Is her needle still stuck on that?" House told Tom about Lydia calling out for the wrong blood type and that he had reassured her multiple times that it was no big deal.

"You may have to keep telling her it's OK; you know how her ex used to belittle her for every little thing she did or said that was wrong. I know you're not him, she knows you're not him. It's just hard to shake off years of abuse."

"I'll deal with that when all the rest of the B.S. goes away." House cringed as he changed positions on the stretcher.

"Do you want me to come up with a wheelchair and get you?" Tom asked. "You're going to feel weak besides being in pain."

"Not unless you can get me the one I had years ago."

"Was it motorized?" Tom asked.

"No, it had a bumper sticker that said 'I'd rather be walking.'" Tom started cracking up.

"I love it! I don't think I know where that one is, but I'll bring up what I can find."

"Don't bother; I'll be down there before you can gimp your way up here." Tom could hear the tech in the lab telling House he should rest for a few minutes. "I'm done. Unhook me from the damn machine, before I do it myself!" Lydia had re-entered the viewing room.

"How are things going? Or shouldn't I ask?"

"House is trying to make his escape from phlebotomy. He's refusing a wheelchair, but I think I'll meet him down over here with one," Tom said quietly. "He's in too much pain and too knocked out from the procedure."

"And too stubborn to do the sensible thing," Lydia noted. "The best place to find a free chair would be down in the I.C.U.; the elevators right here will take you down to it." Tom nodded and left to get the chair.

"Greg, are you there?" Lydia wasn't sure if they were still connected as all she saw was a white screen. She listened carefully and realized that she heard labored breathing and identified it as House trying to get back to the elevators up by phlebotomy.

"Dr. House, you really should rest." Helen's voice came through the phone.

"I will after I see Wilson again," House replied.

"Greg, Tom's gone to get a wheelchair; he's going to meet you by the elevator," Lydia said.

"I'm not getting in it unless it has balloon tires and a banana seat," House said as he pushed the call button. "How's Wilson?" Lydia turned the phone to the window so House could see.

"Ellis is working on the hip. There looks to be a lot of small pieces that he's removing…Oh God! He …I think he just took the bullet out and there's a lot of bleeding." The sight upset Lydia greatly. More for the fact that it was Wilson, rather than the surgery in general.

"If he was taking a lot of bone fragments out, then the head of the femur probably was shattered," House said. "There was no choice but to go with a replacement." Lydia heard that House's breathing was sounding more labored.

"Greg…Greg where are you? Greg, can you hear me? Greg?" Lydia ran out of the observation room and down toward the elevators when she heard a voice come through her phone.

"Lydia…Lydia, I've got him. He's weak, but OK." Lydia breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that Tom was with House. She waited in the hallway until Tom rounded the last corner pushing the wheelchair he borrowed. "He needs something to drink and eat. Start him off with some juice or soda and go from there."

"I want to go to the observation room," House said groggily.

"No, you are going in the waiting room until you get your strength back," Lydia insisted. Slick had come out of the waiting room and heard the end part of the conversation.

"I'll take Lydia's phone back into the viewing room," he said. "You stay in there and rest."

"Things will be pretty routine from this point out, House. There's really nothing you can do," Tom said as he pushed the chair into the waiting room.

"House, are you OK?" Elise asked coming over and patting his arm. "You don't look so good." House rolled his eyes and looked at Lydia.

"I guess they're not going to school," he said.

"They didn't want to leave until they could see you and James," Lydia said as she crouched down next to House. "I'm too worn out to argue." House turned to look at Lydia; he saw how pale and tired she seemed.

"Have you eaten?" he asked.

"She has, and now it's your turn," Marianne said handing House a plate with food on it. She leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "What can I get you to drink?"

"I'll take a Coke for now. I can switch to coffee later to keep me awake." As he took the first bite of his sandwich, House had the uncomfortable feeling of being stared at. He glanced to his left and saw Wilson's parents looking at him.

"Greg, are you OK?" Claudia Wilson asked. House didn't feel like staring into pitiful eyes, so he looked down at his food.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he mumbled. Henry Wilson stood up and came in front of House's slumped form in the wheelchair.

"House," he began. "You are the most difficult, the most infuriating, the most confusing piece of work I have ever met in my life. And I am eternally grateful that you're James' friend." Henry Wilson extended his hand to House, who took it with a forced effort. He quickly put the Coke bottle to his mouth and took several large sips, so he wouldn't have to answer Mr. Wilson.

"Um, excuse me?" Everyone's attention turned to the door where Detective Williams stood. "I understood you were here waiting for Dr. Wilson to get out of surgery."

"We're observing the surgery now," Lydia said, indicating the room where Slick was standing.

"Ah, I see," Williams said nodding. "I was just told by one of my detectives that they've retrieved the bullets. We only need them as a mere formality since the guy is dead."

"The mugger? The mugger is dead?" Mrs. Wilson asked.

"These are Dr. Wilson's parents," Annie said handling the introductions.

"Yeah, Shawn Gwaltney, was the guy's name and he shot it out with some police officers several blocks away from the initial crime scene. You," he said looking at Lydia, "Are extremely lucky. He had several more rounds in his gun. It just happens that the chamber was empty when he pointed it at you."

"Mommy…Mommy?" Elise may not have understood the words but both she and her brother picked up on the looks on everyone's faces, especially House's. He and Lydia exchanged looks right after Detective Williams spoke; both were too weary to hide feelings at this point.

"Kids, I think the adults need to talk in here. Why don't we make a pit stop at the rest rooms and then you'll be more comfortable; maybe even fall asleep," Marianne suggested. The children reluctantly went with her.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea they were in the room. It's a good thing they've left. I've gotten some more information on the perp. After you told me that the gunman said to you, 'Are you ready to die?' I recognized it as a signature of someone we were familiar with," Williams said looking at Lydia.

"So this bastard has robbed people before?" Henry Wilson asked. Williams put his head down.

"Robbed and killed. His street name, is 'The Executioner.'"


	6. Chapter 6

"Life and Limb"

Chapter Six – "Offering a Knuckle Sandwich"

By: Purpleu

"The Executioner?" Slick walked back into the waiting room, abandoning his watch over Wilson. "My crew and I cleaned up after one of his hits. There was no one to take to the hospital. Four dead, mother, father and two kids."

"How do you know he always asked that question?" inquired Thirteen. "Are you ready to die? If he killed all his victims…"

"One of his hits went wrong, and the vic lived long enough to tell us about it. Of course, now we have…" Williams indicated Lydia, Annie and with a nod of his head to the door, Wilson. "To confirm that it was him. Plus some bystanders who were not a part of the robbery, overheard him say that. He said it loudly like he was bragging."

"I will never forget the look in his eyes or the sound of his voice," Lydia said staring at the floor. "And all I could hear was Annie screaming in the background, and then the click of the gun…" Lydia had tears running down her cheeks as she forced herself not to cry full on, not knowing when Marianne would return with the kids. House was also grateful she didn't cry; if he had no tolerance for emotional displays before, he was at less than zero after donating the plasma to Wilson.

"Ironically, we always tell people to just hand over whatever a robber wants. Offering resistance is the worst thing you could do. But, in this case, it actually saved all of your lives," Detective Williams said.

"How so?" Annie asked.

"By you refusing to handover your necklace, you screwed up his rhythm, his M.O. He always took the stuff from his victims, and then killed them with a single shot to the middle of the forehead. He went for your necklace, Dr. Wilson tried to protect you, and in the struggle the gun went off. Normally, he would have taken your things and…Bang! Bang! Bang!" Williams pointed his index finger and thumb like a gun and pointed at Annie's forehead, Lydia's, and pointed toward the door. "The three bullets that are…or were…in Dr. Wilson, were meant for your heads." Annie started to slowly rock back and forth as she began to cry.

"Oh, my God…oh…no! No! I should have given it to him, I don't want James to be hurt like this. Oh my God, I'm so sorry…" She looked at Wilson's parents and saw the pain in their eyes; Annie bent over from the waist, sobs racking her body.

"Another one who needs the wax sucked out," House said loudly, his patience shot. "Didn't you hear what he said? It was because you were a stubborn ass that I'm only deciding what kind of hip Wilson should have; not them," House gestured toward Wilson's parents, "Deciding what his casket should look like." Annie looked at House, hoping to see something of the guy she had been hanging out with the past few months. The man who made her best friend, and her niece and nephew, happier than ever before. The guy who helped her when he saw he struggling to set up a planter on the back patio, and made fun of her, calling her "Farmer Annie." The man who knew how to make Wilson smile and laugh without saying a word. That was the person she so desperately wanted to see looking back at her; but he wasn't there.

"I heard him," Annie said trying to catch her breath. "I...I just feel…like this is my fault. I'm the one who suggested the restaurant."

"It's not your fault, Miss Harris," Williams said. "You can't live your life hiding away, afraid of going anywhere, or doing anything; that's no way to live."

"She's tried that already…worked fine until I uncovered her secret hideaway," chimed in House.

"Greg!" Lydia exclaimed. She knew House was not in a good state, mentally or emotionally, but she would not let Annie be fodder for his wisecracks. Lydia could see Annie was staring off into space very frequently; the last thing she needed was for Annie to withdraw inside herself, the way she did after the attack by her boyfriend and his cronies.

"If anything," Williams said, unaware of what House was talking about, "in a roundabout way, you saved your own life, plus two others," he said to Annie. "To try and assign fault to you or Ms. Strohman or Dr. Wilson…is nothing short of ridiculous."

"Well, this sure as hell is somebody's fault," House said putting the half-eaten plate of food aside and struggling to his feet. "How are things going?" he called out to Slick.

"There's a lot of bone fragments; the head of the femur must have shattered badly and left pieces everywhere. Ellis and Chase are still picking them out," Slick reported. He took a few steps toward House. "I don't think we need to keep this going," he said handing House his phone. House looked at it and saw that he and Lydia were still connected by Skype.

"You can turn your phone off now," House said to Lydia. She picked up her phone from the table next to her and pushed the button to end the Skype connection. She saw she had a message; her heart sank when she read it.

"Greg, check your phone; I think you have a message from your mother's doctors," she said standing up and walking to him.

"I'm not going to talk to them right now. As far as getting my permission to do anything to her, they can do whatever they want; they probably care more about her than I do right now. If she's already croaked, tell them to check with the good reverend as to what the plans are; they've probably already picked out a plot together." The room lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Claudia Wilson was the one to break the quiet.

"Greg, I know you're probably not thinking straight right now. Your father was in the military; your mother has the right to…"

"My mother doesn't have a right to anything. She sure as hell didn't want to lay down next to John House while they were living; why spoil things by dealing with him for eternity, if you believe in such bull." House limped out of the waiting room, past Slick, who was still in the hall, and into the observation room. Lydia could feel that all eyes were on her, as if she had the answer to why House reacted the way he did. It had to be more than a little troubling to hear that one of the bullets they just dug out of your best friend's body was meant to kill your girlfriend. On top of that, to find out your mother's doctors were calling? Wilson wasn't out of surgery, the young man they admitted today had an illness that they hadn't even been able to start diagnosing because of the shooting…_Ach, was fur ein_ _Chaos!_ Such a mess! Who could possibly deal with all of that?

"Are you alright?" Tom had moved over to Lydia and put his arm around her. She buried her head in his shoulder.

"Don't let Greg see me crying. He's having a hard enough time dealing with all of this." Tom turned so that his back was to the door and Lydia couldn't be seen.

"Lydia, you have every right to cry under the circumstances," Tom said. "I know his relationship with his mother is complicated, but if he doesn't hold it together, he's going to be of no use to anyone."

"What's going on with his mother?" Henry Wilson asked. "I take it she's in the hospital."

"Yes, but not here. She's in Virginia." Lydia told the Wilsons about the phone call House had received in the middle of the night telling him his mother had a stroke, and the one he had received earlier this evening; that now there were cardiac issues involved.

"I'm surprised he didn't want to go down there right away," Mrs. Wilson said. "After all, it is his mother."

"In name only," House said as he returned to the room to get some coffee. "I actually called her 'Incubator' as a young child. It was far more accurate that any maternal moniker."

"Greg, being a mother, or a parent for that matter, is a very difficult thing…" explained Mrs. Wilson.

"So was being their son," snapped House. "I'd go into it in more detail, but you're already on their side of the fence. No sense in closing the barn door when the bullies have already broken it down." House finished fixing his coffee and was about to leave the waiting room, when Henry Wilson blocked his way.

"What did we ever do to you that you have this…this attitude with us? You're an important part of James' life, and we've always welcomed you into our home and our family. What…"

"I've never met all of the family. Take Funny Uncle Jack, I believe his name was. He unfortunately had a close relationship with all three of your sons. And either you were incredibly naïve and stupid, or you turned a blind eye until sons one and three said 'enough' and brought things out of the closet. The end result was you blamed the one person who had the balls to say no to the guy; you continue to blame him to this day." Henry Wilson was seething with anger, a good mask to hide his embarrassment at House revealing a well-kept family secret.

"You have no right to comment on a situation you know very little about," he began. "You only know one side of the story…"

"I know Wilson's; that's good enough for me," House replied. He grabbed a slice of pound cake to go along with his coffee and made his way to the observation room. Annie looked over to Lydia; when their eyes met, she realized that her friend knew about Wilson's childhood trauma. The rest of the room did not, nor should they have been privy to such information. But House had let the cat out of the bag, and it would be up to Lydia to try and do damage control, as always.

"Mr. Wilson, Greg is very protective of James; he feels that at times, James is too nice for his own good. You're right, he only knows one side of the story. But coming on top of this," Lydia said gesturing to the O.R. "He doesn't care what the other side of the story is. His only concern is for James."

"Does he think we don't love James?" Mrs. Wilson asked. "Because we do, very much. It…it was a very difficult situation; I mean, who knows how to handle something like that…"

"Claudia, enough!" Henry Wilson said. "We can talk things over, _in private_," he emphasized, "When James is back on his feet."

"I…I just had no idea he was so upset that he was telling the world," Mrs. Wilson went on, not heeding her husband's warning.

"Claudia! Drop it!" Claudia Wilson bent her head down and fiddled with the tissues in her hand. Annie stood up and walked over to Lydia.

"I need to stretch my legs," she said with a knowing look to her friend.

"I'll go with you," Lydia replied. "Maybe we can find Marianne and the kids." Lydia turned and surveyed the room. "You'll be alright here?" The question was directed to all in the room except the Wilsons; the others were the ones who would take over care of the coupe while she and Annie took a break.

"We'll be fine," Thirteen said. "Go see how the kids are doing." Lydia nodded gratefully as she and Annie made their way down the hall.

"Annie, I'm so sorry for what Greg said before. You know if he was thinking properly, he would never say anything like that about you."

"Lydia," Annie said as she stopped walking. "That's Greg. I've heard him when I've come to visit James at work; I've heard him when he comes home all pissed about not being able to figure out a case…I heard it at Mayfield. Even when I was still unresponsive, I heard him; he comes through loud and clear. But I also know, that the times that he's the loudest, the most disagreeable, the cruelest…those tend to be the times he cares the most. He's terrified of losing James," she said tearing up. "Maybe even more than I am." Lydia looked surprised. "Don't get me wrong, you were right when you said James is love of my life. We've…we've even talked about future plans a little." Annie saw the look on Lydia's face. "Don't get your bridesmaid dress ready yet. We said we'll wait until we've been together closer to a year before he goes jewelry shopping."

"You don't need a ring; I got engaged without one," Lydia said ruefully.

"Well my inconsiderate, unthinking, jackass of a brother CAN NOT be compared to James," Annie said indignantly.

"No, that's for sure." Lydia looked at Annie. "I know what you mean about how upset Greg is over all of this. James is the one and only true friend Greg has ever had. They've been through so much together, good and bad. I really do think that Greg looks at James as the brother he never had."

"He does; he told James that the other night, when they went out for pizza. Well, not in so many words, of course, but…they talked about a lot of things that night." Annie looked at Lydia "Including James' horrid experience as a teenager. I couldn't believe he had never told Greg before then."

"Greg only told me when I took a walk with him to the phlebotomy lab before. James told you why he didn't tell Greg sooner, didn't he?" Lydia asked. Annie nodded. "By the same token, Greg told me he saw signs of a kid who was always put down and blamed for everything, just like he was. But he didn't ask James any questions about the way his parents treated him. Neither one wanted to think of the other as going through the hell each knew too well."

"It's a shame it stopped them from talking to each other; James said he was so wanting to hear Greg say that it was OK, that he understood why James didn't ask."

"Like you said before, Annie; that's Greg. They talked about a lot of things that night including what Tom recently discovered about his leg and the prospect of an operation. That would definitely put Greg in the wrong mindset." Annie nodded sadly as they began to walk again.

"I guess when things calm down, they'll work things out in their own way," Annie said with a sigh. "Just like we always do." She reached over and put her arm around Lydia. "You know, thinking back…I don't think we've ever had a fight in all the years we've known each other." Lydia shook her head.

"No, we haven't. I mean we've gotten annoyed with something the other had said or done, but never an all-out fight." Lydia put her head down and laughed. "Of course, you can't really count the ten years you decided keep quiet and let me win any difference of opinion we may have had." Annie started laughing, too.

"I didn't even get the chance to tell my side of the story on anything back then," she said hugging Lydia closer. Annie stopped and reached up to brush aside Lydia's hair. There the bandage was staring her clearly in the face. "I was so afraid I was going to lose you, right in front of me. I screamed for help as I held James, but I looked over and saw it was you standing there with the guy; I saw the gun to your head." Annie lightly touched the bandage and ran her fingers down Lydia's face. "I'd go crazy if anything had happened to you." Annie started crying as Lydia took her in her arms.

"I'm here, sweetie. All of us are here. Some a little more beat up than others, but we survived and we're going to help each other pull ourselves together." Lydia took a napkin out of her pocket and gave it to Annie, who began to wipe her face. Suddenly, Lydia heard her children's voices; sure enough, in a matter of seconds, Marianne came around the corner with Ben and Elise in tow.

"Mommy! Look what the food machine had!" Elise was holding up a peanut butter and chocolate chip granola bar. "Ben was able to get one, too."

"With all the food we have in the other room, you had to buy these?" Lydia asked. "Or should I say Aunt Marianne bought them?" Lydia looked at Marianne who was shaking her head.

"We took a little walk and found the vending machines on this floor. I guess they're for the poor slobs who don't get a spread like you did," Marianne laughed. "For some reason, Ben decided to bang on the machine, and we heard something drop. The kids checked in the slot where the food comes out, and there were the two granola bars."

"Talk about the luck of the Irish," Annie said teasing Marianne.

"Now, now. You've got a bit of the Erin in you, too. Don't go making fun," said Marianne waving a finger.

"Mommy, can we eat these now?" Elise asked. Lydia knew it was past eleven and possibly close to midnight.

"I don't want you eating too much sugar this late," Lydia said as they began walking back to the waiting room. "Aunt Marianne will never get you to sleep."

"Aw, Mom, we don't want to go home." Ben said. "Can't we stay until we can talk to Wilson?"

"Honey, he won't be awake for a while, hours probably. He's not even out of surgery yet. The doctor was still trying to clean out the broken pieces of bone. When Aunt Annie and I started walking down this way a few minutes ago, they were nowhere near ready to put the artificial hip in."

"Will Wilson need a cane like House to walk?" Elise asked. "'Cause if he did, I think we should get them canes that match."

"Oh, I'm sure the two of them would just love that," Marianne said rolling her eyes.

"Mare, where are Tommy and Shelly?" Annie asked. "I would have thought that your two wouldn't want to miss out on any of the action."

"Tommy and Shelly are with my neighbor, Margie. Both have to go to school tomorrow; Shelly has a class trip to the Liberty Science Center and Tommy's class is holding a spelling bee to see who represents the classroom in the school competition."

"My spelling bee is on Tuesday," Ben piped up. "I've been studying the words over and over."

"You spell very well to start with," Annie said hugging her nephew. "I'm sure you'll do fine." Lydia was about to talk to the kids about missing school tomorrow, possibly Friday if everything was still crazy. Monday was Columbus Day, so they would have a long weekend to start with; maybe a slightly longer one wouldn't be a bad idea. As she opened her mouth to speak, the sound of House's voice stopped her.

"I don't think you're going to walk out of the operating room to try and stop me." House took several steps out of the observation room and ran smack into the ladies and the kids. He looked down at Ben and Elise. "Haven't you gotten these two out of here yet?" Lydia could see that the kids were taken back. They had seen House in a foul mood when a case was going badly, but this was something different.

"We didn't want to go home until we talk to Wilson," Ben explained. "But then Mom told us it would be hours before he was awake." Hearing the child express how long it would be, on top of the chatter coming from the O.R. about more fragments, more bleeding, another unit of blood, which meant they would need more plasma, just set House off.

"You want to be a doctor when you grow up?" Ben nodded reluctantly. "You want to see what you're in for?" House grabbed Ben by the arm and dragged him into the observation area.

"Greg, no!" Lydia yelled. She started to walk toward the room when Elise started crying and reaching for her mother.

"House, I don't want to see it," the boy said turning his head away from the window. House shook his head.

"All you can do is talk about wanting to be a doctor, but show you some real blood and you turn into a wuss." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, House felt a sickening wave wash over him. Closing his eyes did no good to erase the memory of being fifteen, maybe sixteen, and finding a dog limping down one of the roads on the base. The dog was a mutt, a friendly little thing with black, tan and white coloring. He knew his parents would never let him keep the animal; nor would they assist in bringing it to a vet. "All who are wounded are a burden to those around them; they should be put out of their misery," he remembered his father saying. He managed to hide the dog in his garage for two days while his father was away and his mother gone most of the time, campaigning for one of her social causes. He cared for the dog as best he could, and Greg swore on the morning of the second day, he was moving around better. But when Greg came home from school, a horrible sight met him: the dog was lying by the road, bloodied from having been hit by a car. Greg saw that the garage door was open; he knew he didn't leave it that way.

"So sorry I hit the poor little thing," the neighbor was saying. "Didn't you see him run past you in the driveway?" he asked John House.

"No, I didn't," John said curtly and coldly. He gave his son a look, but no words were exchanged.

"I'll go get a shovel; I can make a nice little grave for him in my backyard." The neighbor hurried away. Young Greg knelt down by the dog, trying to figure out if there was something he could do, some way he could save the poor pup.

"What's the matter? Can't help the damn thing?" Greg shook his head as tears filled his eyes. "All you've talked about the past few months is how you're going to be a great doctor someday; but when it comes time to do something real and useful, you bawl like a baby." John House walked away leaving his wounded son and the dead dog by the side of the road…

"Greg?" Lydia had come into the room. She was furious with House at first, but then saw the look on his face and the few tears rolling down his cheeks. He opened his eyes and saw Ben looking up at him, the child's hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry I didn't look; I just don't want to see Wilson or you or any one I love hurt," the boy said through his own tears. _Any one I love._ _He's talking about you, you ass,_ House thought to himself. _How the hell do you love someone who just did what I did to the kid?_

"Come on, honey," Lydia said leading her son out of the room. "Let's get some water and maybe something not so sweet for a snack," she said looking at the granola bars in Elise's hands. _That's how,_ House thought. _You have someone like Lydia for a mother._ "Are you alright?" House turned and saw that Lydia had re-entered the room.

"No, and I can't even say, 'But I'm holding it together.' Cause as you saw, I'm not." House hung his head down." I have a lot of apologizing to do to a lot of people when this is over; and that's not going to come easily from me."

"Well, it's a good thing you'll have time to practice," Lydia said with her arms folded. "What happened down there?" she inquired indicating the operating room.

"There are bone fragments wedged in everywhere, probably because the gun was fired at such close range. They're going to have to hang another bag of blood soon; hopefully it can wait until Ellis starts to set the hip in. That'll be Wilson's fourth unit of blood, which means he's going use the second unit of plasma I gave. He'll need another unit if they go beyond four of whole blood."

"Greg, you can't be thinking of donating again. I mean, it can be done, but look how it knocked you out the first time. I would think you'd want to keep your wits about you to oversee James' post-operative care."

"I can bleed and write orders at the same time," House argued. _Geduld, Lydia, Geduld._ Patience. Lydia had seen House stressed to the max when he had to deal with Malcolm Hunter; he had done and said some crazy, hurtful things…but this was beyond anything Lydia had seen before. It was like Annie said: the worse House behaved, the more deeply he cared. But he was losing it, as far as she was concerned. Like it or not, she was taking matters into her own hands. Lydia nudged House out of the way and reached for the talk button on the intercom.

"Dr. Foreman, Dr. Chase? Do you anticipate the need to give Dr. Wilson another unit of blood?" The two glanced up to observation room.

"Unfortunately, yes," Chase answered. "We're going to need another twenty to thirty minutes to make sure the area is clean."

"The last thing we would want to have happen is to bring Dr. Wilson back into surgery,' Dr. Ellis said with a quick glance upward. House stepped up next to Lydia; he was so worn out that he didn't even seem to mind that she took charge of things.

"Wilson needs more plasma," House said. "How soon?"

"He finished receiving the first unit of plasma about half an hour ago," Foreman said. "I'd say at the rate things are going…"

"He has another half an hour to an hour before he needs more," Ellis noted. "We seem to be reaching an end point with the bone fragments; the area is almost ready to receive the replacement unit. Dr. Chase's estimate is accurate for the timing of things." Lydia turned to House.

"So you'll be using the second unit of plasma when you start the fourth unit of blood?" Lydia asked. Ellis nodded. "And if you need to give Wilson a fifth unit of blood?"

"Highly unlikely, but I would like to have another unit of plasma on hand," Ellis replied.

"Greg, you cannot handle donating again in that short amount of time. Two is pushing the limit; three is crossing the line. You'll be in no shape to be by James' bedside when he wakes up. If he doesn't see you there, he's going to know something is wrong and get upset. If you don't want to listen to me, think about what he would say to you." House sighed.

"He'd tell me that I think I'm indestructible…and that I'm an idiot."

"And he'd be right," Lydia said. Without looking at her, House nodded his agreement.

"Call the vampires; ask them to call their fellow ghouls over at Princeton General." Lydia left the observation room and headed into the waiting area; she remembered seeing an in-house phone there.

"What the hell happened in there?" Tom asked quietly as he, Slick and Thirteen came over to her. She held up her hand as the phlebotomy lab answered. After making the request for the extra plasma, Lydia turned to the three around her. She saw that the kids were busy talking to the Wilsons, Marianne and Annie; Detective Williams had left, so there were no unwanted ears around.

"Greg is so overwhelmed by everything going on…it's scaring me. I know about rude comments and crazy actions by him; I've seen it first-hand," Lydia said remembering things at Mayfield. "But this is too much all at once. We can't do much to help the patient in the middle of the night except stabilize him; in the morning everyone is going to be exhausted. I can start making some inquiries of the fire houses he worked in; maybe in the afternoon, go to the patient's house to look for a cause to his problem…"

"What about transferring the patient to another hospital?" asked Slick. "I'm sure House won't be happy with the idea, but…"

"Won't be happy?" exclaimed Thirteen as intently as she could without letting the others in the room hear her. "House would find out where we sent him, steal an ambulance, and kidnap him back. Bad idea."

"He is protective over his patients," Tom noted.

"Especially the ones he hasn't been given a fair crack at," Thirteen replied. She was about to say something else, when she paused and thought for a moment. "The guy's wife is with him in his room. I know it's late, but maybe I can get the location of where he's stationed and what shifts he works."

"Wait a minute, you said he was a firefighter?" Slick said to Lydia. "I may be able to access some basic information on the guy through a web site I have access to as a fellow first responder. What's his name?"

"Slick, we can't tell you," Lydia said reluctantly. "With all the HIPPA rules and things…I'm sure the young man would be eternally grateful for any help he gets; so would his wife, but…"

"Lydia, if Slick can find out something that can help you guys narrow things down on the case, you'll be helping House keep part of his sanity," Tom pointed out. He knew bringing up the idea of helping House would appeal to her.

"You're right; it would help," she conceded. Lydia rolled her eyes. "And to think I'm on the committee to develop stronger enforcement of privacy laws."

"Tell you what," Slick said. He took a piece of paper and a pen out of his pocket and handed it to Thirteen. "Write down the guy's name on there, and I'll…accidently…look over your shoulder as you do." Thirteen gave him a look.

"You are kidding, right? I'm still writing it down for you; I'm still giving up information."

"No, you're not writing it _for me_, you're…just writing it, and I happened to see it."

"That's ridiculous."

"Look we can argue the merits of this later; start moving the pen." Thirteen looked at Lydia.

"This is why we don't date each other," she said. "Can you imagine what we'd be like?"

"Oh, I don't know…I think you sound a lot like Greg and I do sometimes," Lydia teased.

"Save your fantasies for another time," Slick said. "Write the name!" Thirteen was going to write a gag name, but she thought the joke had gone far enough. Slick hovered over her as she wrote down, "Kevin Sheeler." Tom and Lydia saw the shocked look on Slick's face; Thirteen was pretending not to notice him looking, but finally turned around.

"Do you know the guy?" Slick nodded.

"About twenty-five to thirty, buzz-cut light brown hair, tattoo on his right arm that says U.S.M.C. and a picture of a bulldog." Slick leaned against the nearby wall. "My ambulance group doesn't go by city limits or even fire districts. We're private, so we can answer calls from anywhere within a certain radius. I met this kid at that big warehouse fire a few months back, right before I met you guys. The fire went to five alarms, so we were called in to assist. Kevin caught the edge of a flashback; there were so many injuries at that fire due to the chemicals that were stored in the warehouse. I had noticed the tattoo, and we had begun talking about the Marines. I did a four-year stint in the Corps; it's where I started my medical training."

"So you know where his work firehouse is located?" Lydia asked. Slick nodded. "What about the one he volunteers at?"

"I wouldn't know anything about that; I don't know where he lives."

"When you saw him at that warehouse fire, it was at night. At least I'm assuming so since you usually work the graveyard shift," Thirteen said.

"Yeah, that particular call was in the middle of the night. But a lot of firehouses have the guys work a three and three: three days on, three days off. They'll sleep at the firehouse for the three days, so they can go out on a call at any time. Then they go home for three days."

"So you're looking to get round the clock info on the calls he went out on, for all the days he worked in…say the past month," Tom said.

"Makes it a little harder since it wasn't only one shift," Lydia noted. "Alright, I'll go and talk to the wife, confirm the name of the firehouse he works in, and what kind of time he puts in where he volunteers."

"Find out the name of a supervisor that we should talk to in both places," said Slick. "Especially in the unit where he works; bureaucracy is a wonderful thing."

"You may need to get permission from the patient or his wife, if he can't give consent, to examine the contents of his locker," advised Tom.

"Even then you may hit a brick wall," Slick said.

"We may have to sneak in to the station house to get what we need," Lydia said, thinking over the situation. "Distract them in some way while someone gets a look at the guy's locker." She had been staring at the ground while pondering things; now Lydia looked up and saw that Tom, Slick, and Thirteen were all giving her looks. "What?"

"You've been hanging around House too long," Thirteen said shaking her head.

"And I plan on continuing to do so in the future," said Lydia with a smile.

"Hey, just got some good news from I.C.U.," said Thirteen looking at her phone. "The patient's temp had gone down slightly, but enough not to be considered in the danger zone. His vitals have also stabilized a bit, too."

"I have an idea," Lydia said. "You go in and tell Greg about the improvement in the patient's condition, while I run downstairs and talk to the wife. Then when I come back up, I can tell Greg that we at least have some concrete leads to follow to find the source of whatever has contaminated the patient's leg."

"Good plan," Tom said. "I'll stay here and make sure the group over there stays distracted," he said with a nod to the kids and adults across the room. "Slick, you can help Thirteen manage House…if such a thing can be done."

"She's figured it out," Thirteen said with a glance at Lydia.

"I haven't figured anything out. Greg is…an enigma; all I've done is make lucky guesses," Lydia said with a sigh. "Come on, Greg and Lydia Number Two…get to work on Dr. House." Slick and Thirteen shot Lydia a look.

"Please! I'm…sort of seeing someone right now," Thirteen said, almost shyly. "There's only one problem."

"Yeah, I think the new girl is hot," Slick said.

"I told you, I saw her first," Thirteen said giving him a playful slap on the arm.

"OK, OK…we'll figure out the social dynamics later; get in there," Tom said indicating the observation room. Lydia waited until she saw Thirteen and Slick engaging House in conversation; then she slipped away to the elevators.

"How's he doing?" Thirteen asked House as he stared down at the operating room.

"Ellis thinks he and Chase have gotten all the bone fragments out; Foreman's looking things over for any neurological problems. Taub is trying to defend his prior specialty in the medical profession."

"Plastic surgeons helped lower the number of divorces that happen in this country in the past twenty years…" Taub said.

"No, they didn't," replied Chase. "All they did was make men wish they fell asleep and woke up next to Pamela Anderson. You guys did more harm than good."

"When Pamela Anderson was a sex symbol, you were still having wet dreams," House said into the intercom. "At least we know who you were thinking of. Now that you've had that little release of pre-pubescent fantasies, could you please concentrate on Wilson?"

"Don't worry, Dr. House," Dr. Ellis said. "I'm the one doing most of the work on Dr. Wilson, and this talk hasn't affected me in the least. I've always preferred brunettes." House managed to smile at Ellis' comment. His reputation matched his real life dealings to a tee. House knew the situation with his leg had nothing to do with orthopedics, but…maybe Ellis was a good guy to talk to…

"House?" He pushed the thought to the back of his head as Thirteen spoke to him.

"Yeah?"

"Got a text from I.C.U.; the patient seems to be responding to the anti-biotics, if only slightly. Temp is down to 102.5, O-sats are up to ninety-four, pulse and BP have come down," Thirteen reported.

"He's doing better than Wilson," House noted. Thirteen looked down at the monitors for Wilson's vitals and saw that House was right, by the slimmest of margins.

"For everything that Wilson's been through, House, he's doing damned well," Slick said.

"I'm still going to want that cigarette from you later," House said, his eyes never leaving the scene as the artificial hip was wheeled over near the operating table on top of a cart. Thirteen gave Slick a quizzical look. She casually turned her back to House and mouthed the word "cigarette?" to him. Slick shrugged his shoulders slightly. Crap, Thirteen thought; something else for Lydia to deal with…

Not that Lydia didn't already have enough on her hands. While she was on her way to the I.C.U., Tom texted her that the kids were going to have to go home soon. The Wilsons were beginning to talk about not having grandchildren of their own, and starting to cry, which was upsetting the kids. Of course it wasn't true that they didn't have any grandkids; their oldest Michael had two, he just never let his parents see them. Lydia could only imagine that this kind of talk was upsetting Annie as well. After the attack she suffered so many years ago, the doctors told Lydia that even if Annie survived, she would never be able to have kids; the way those bastards slashed and carved at her abdomen, among other parts of her, it had damaged too many reproductive organs. When Annie came out of the catatonic state and went to doctors for check-ups, they wouldn't say it was impossible for Annie to conceive, but highly unlikely. Even more unlikely was the possibility she would carry to full term.

Annie told Lydia that she had been truthful with Wilson from the beginning about the scars that she bore, inside and out. One of the things that made Annie fall in love with him, was how caring and gentle he was with her, especially at the beginning. He was always making sure that even when they were having fun, kidding around with some horseplay…or making love, he wasn't hurting her. Not that she was totally fragile in any way…it was just that it was in his nature to care. The only request he had, was not to bring up the subject to his parents; it was then that he had told her about his estrangement from his brothers and what had caused the situation.

Lydia had told Tom to take the kids down to the cafeteria, and see if they could get some cereal or perhaps a bagel they could split; Lydia felt that would be better than sugary granola bars or pound cake or cookies for a "bedtime" snack. It would also get them away from the Wilsons for a little bit. As Lydia rounded a corner, she found a young woman curled up on a couch crying quietly to herself. She quickly appraised the woman's age and appearance, and decided that this must be Mrs. Sheeler, the patient's wife.

"Excuse me?" Lydia said gently to the woman. The young woman jumped, startled at even the kind tone in Lydia's voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry; did you want to sit?"

"No, no. Are you Kevin Sheeler's wife?"

"Yes, yes, I am." Mrs. Sheeler stood up right away. "Is he alright?"

"He's doing as well as we can hope at the moment. His temperature has come down, and his vitals are doing better." Lydia smiled and extended her hand. "I'm Lydia Strohman. I work with Dr. House's team. I was the one who was with Kevin in the clinic when he had his seizure from the high temperature.

"I was told his heart stopped," Mrs. Sheeler said, her voice quivering.

"Very briefly. I saw where things were going, and called for help. They had the defibrillator in the room and on him in a matter of seconds. We're not anticipating any permanent damage from the incident. What's your first name?"

"Susan." She smiled briefly. "Kevin likes to call me Suzy-Q. There was a snack cake by that name a few years ago; it was his favorite as a kid…well, you can fill in the rest." Susan Sheeler even managed a laugh thinking about her husband's nickname for her and its source.

"Why were you out here, on the couch in the lounge area, Susan?" Lydia asked. "Didn't they get a chair for you in the room? I understand that you're expecting." Lydia looked down at her feet. "You're ankles are very swollen."

"Yes, I had to stop working because of that," Susan said looking down.

"Come with me; I'm going to make sure you get the proper set up in your husband's room." Normally relatives wouldn't be allowed in I.C.U., except for very limited hours. But just as there were going to be all sorts of people crawling in and out of Wilson's room shortly, this young couple had extraordinary circumstances.

"Carmella," Lydia said when she got to the nurses' station, "This is Susan Sheeler, Kevin Sheeler's wife. He's in room five." Carmella looked at Susan very sympathetically.

"Yes, I know who Mrs. Sheeler is," replied the nurse. "I tried to arrange for her to stay by her husband, but I was told that wasn't allowed," Carmella said in a hushed voice as she looked over her shoulder. On the other side of the nurses' station was Tracy, head nurse for the shift, on the job less than six months and liked by no one.

"Well, let me say this to all of you who are handling Mr. Sheeler's care." Lydia said in a voice loud enough that Tracy couldn't help but turn around out of curiosity. "Mrs. Sheeler is going to be staying in her husband's room, in a Gerry chair, by his bedside. She is…four months?" Lydia asked Susan, who nodded. "Pregnant and has ankles the size of an elephant. No offense," she said to Susan. "Now if anyone has a problem with these orders, they are to direct their comments to Dr. House." Out of the corner of her eye, Lydia saw the look of disapproval on Tracy's face. One of the aides who had stopped to listen to Lydia had walked away, and returned with the requested chair, giving Lydia a subtle thumbs-up as she walked by.

"Dr. Strohman, I don't know what I can do to thank you," Susan Sheeler said with tears rolling down her cheeks as she walked into her husband's room.

"Actually it's Ms. Strohman…and there is something you can do…" A short while later, the elevator doors opened on the floor by the observation area. Thirteen greeted Lydia as she left the elevator car.

"He just started asking for you a few minutes ago," Thirteen said. "Slick and I tried to play dumb, but you know how he is…"

"He saw right through you. That's OK, I hit the jackpot," Lydia said. She rushed toward the observation room, but stopped into the waiting room for a quick talk with the kids. "Ben, Elise, listen to me. You will not be able to talk to Wilson tonight. It's still going to be a bit before he's out of surgery, and then he has to go to the recovery room. The only people allowed in there, will be House, Aunt Annie, and Mr. and Mrs. Wilson. I probably won't be able to get in." Lydia knew that wasn't necessarily true; House could get her in and out any time he wanted, but she had to say something to convince the kids to go home. She could just make it a flat out order to leave, but Lydia never had to do that with her kids. They knew if she was telling them to do something, it was for a very good reason. "He won't be able to talk to anyone until tomorrow or the next day even. Please, it would be a big help if there were fewer people here to look after. And I would feel so much better if you two were back at Aunt Marianne's and Uncle Tom's house." Elise yawned as Lydia had been talking.

"Mommy, I think I'm gonna have a hard time getting up for school," the little girl said.

"You both can stay home tomorrow. Maybe a little later in the day, maybe after lunch…I'll have Aunt Marianne bring you back over here so I can see you and squeeze you," Lydia said as she gave both of her kids hugs. "I'll call the school in the morning and explain what's going on. Go get your jackets and say your good-byes."

"If I could bring them to you around noon, that would be great," Marianne said. "I have three students tomorrow from one to four."

"Any timing works fine for me," Lydia said. "You're doing me a favor."

"You are so great with your kids, and it shows in their behavior," Slick said. "Most other kids would be screaming and arguing their heads off. Makes me wish I had the chance to have a kid," he said wistfully.

"You're nothing but a big, overgrown kid yourself sometimes," Lydia said putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Like House," Thirteen said coming alongside him.

"Why do you think he and I are friends?" asked Slick. The women laughed as Marianne and the kids joined them.

"Mommy, can we say good-bye to House?" Elise asked.

"He probably won't care," Ben said. Lydia cringed to hear her son talk that way. The two had developed such a good relationship; she hoped the earlier incident wouldn't set them back.

"We can poke our heads in and say good night. But remember, he's very busy watching Wilson's operation, so we'll have to make it quick." Lydia tucked the papers she was holding into the pocket of the scrubs she was wearing, and took her children's hands. She led them across the hall to the observation room; House was slumped to his right, allowing the wall to hold his body upright.

"Greg?" House straightened up and turned to the doorway. He did little to hide his displeasure at the sight that greeted him. "The kids just wanted to say good night," Lydia said.

"This has been anything but a good night," House groused.

"But, Wilson's gonna be OK." Elise said. "And Mommy's gonna be OK, even though the bad man burned her. And Aunt Annie's OK and you're OK." The child looked at House innocently. "Those all good things." House closed his eyes; he knew he must be losing it if the naïve attitude of a child could get to him.

"Yeah…sure, whatever you say." House glanced over at Ben. The boy was staring straight down at the floor, unwilling to make eye contact with House. _I blew it big time,_ House said to himself. _How do you_ _say I'm sorry when those words aren't in your vocabulary?_ He looked over at Ben, and realized that the boy was taking small steps into the observation room. "What's up?" House asked.

"I…I really do want to be a doctor…just like you. I'll look at Wilson being operated on; I can take it."

"Ben, honey…" Lydia began. But House cut her off.

"You don't need to do that. I'm sure when the time comes, you'll deal with blood and guts better than anyone. Besides, if Wilson finds out I let you look, he'll kill me." House glanced down at Ben and saw that the boy was smiling; so was Lydia for that matter.

"Good night, House. Mom said that we could come back tomorrow and check on everyone," Ben said. He held his hand up for a fist pump; House returned the gesture, glad that him being an ass before had blown over with the kid.

"Night, House," Elise said as she carefully hugged him around his legs. She was always careful not to squeeze House's scar.

"Night," House replied. He turned his attention back to the action in the operating room. Everything appeared to be going smoothly; in a little while he noticed that a new unit of blood was being hung up. He knew that meant it wouldn't be long before the second unit of plasma he donated would be hooked up to Wilson; after that, it would be plasma from a stranger, obtained through Princeton General. He knew getting the extra plasma from the other hospital was the right thing to do, but it still bothered the hell out of him. He dropped his head down and closed his eyes, hoping to rest for just a few minutes. House became aware of the presence of another person in the room.

"Can I get you some fresh coffee?" Lydia asked.

"Not right now. With any kind of luck, within the next hour we can start packing that stuff up and bring it down to the waiting room outside of recovery," House said as he kept his focus on the O.R.

"That won't be necessary," Lydia said. "Eric gave Cherry Valley Deli my cell number; they just called asking when we were going to be moving to the next waiting area. I told them in about an hour, so they're on their way over to clean this up and bring fresh food to the next waiting room." House shook his head, taken back at how well Foreman arranged for them to be made comfortable.

"You figure out yet which budget this is all coming out of?" he asked.

"No one's; your team is paying for it out of their own pockets." House was more than taken back…he was stunned. "They knew there would be a crowd of people here, and that the three of us, at the very least, didn't eat dinner. They wanted to make sure we were taken care of." Lydia saw the look at House's face and knew he was having trouble processing the kind gesture. "Greg, I keep telling you…you have more people who love you than you give yourself credit for."

"They knew they'd be hungry after staring at Wilson's red meat all night," House replied trying to lessen the impact of his team's actions. "What have you got in your pocket?" House had noticed the papers Lydia had placed in there earlier. She told House about speaking to the patient's wife and getting all the info they needed to start investigating what the young man had been exposed to.

"I also got the key to the Sheeler's house. She keeps a spare of the house key and car key on a separate key ring. I'll bring it with me tomorrow when I go over to their house; I first thought I'd try the Greg House method for obtaining entry…a credit card." Somehow, the comment managed to pull a smile from House. Lydia noticed it and was very pleased.

"When you do that, make sure you take Ben with you; he'll get a cheap thrill," House quipped. There was movement behind them as workers from Cheery Valley entered the waiting room, and began the clean-up process. Thirteen explained to everyone that food and beverages would be waiting for them down by recovery.

"Is James' operation almost over?" Claudia Wilson asked.

"Not quite yet, but thing are moving at a good pace," Lydia replied.

"I think I'll get everyone to head downstairs," Thirteen said.

"Good idea," Lydia replied. "I'll stay here." House continued to watch intently the events down in the O.R. while Lydia waited silently by his side. After a bit, House saw that the insertion of the hip was finished and Taub had moved into position over the wound site.

"Dr. House, I couldn't impose my thought on Dr. Rayner, but I wanted to have Dr. Taub close Dr. Wilson's surgical area. He'll have the best chance of a minimal amount of scarring." What seemed like an eternity passed, and the operation on Wilson was over; he was ready to be moved into recovery. House and Lydia headed to the elevators, and went down to the third floor. A few quick turns down the hallway, and they joined the others by the waiting room. Everyone kept nervously pacing while Thirteen kept watch for Wilson to come down.

"They're here," she finally said. All left the waiting room and lined the hall to allow the stretcher to pass. House was un-nerved as he watched the stretcher come toward them. An orderly was at the head, pushing the gurney along; Chase, Foreman, and Taub, walked alongside the stretcher, like a military honor guard that House had seen too many times in his youth. Ellis was nowhere to be seen, and at the moment, House didn't care. Wilson was hooked to so many tubes and monitors, it was a surreal sight; even more so to the non-medically trained people. Everyone moved to the stretcher as it approached; the orderly was forced to stop.

"Oh, my God…Oh, my baby!" Claudia Wilson fell against her husband, sobbing pitifully. Her husband reached out his hand and placed it on Wilson's shoulder.

"Hang in there, James. Your mother and I love you…more than anything." Henry Wilson pulled his hand back as he started to cry. Annie had waited to step over, to allow Wilson's parents to see him first. Even though she had a chance to prepare herself, and had Lydia's arm around her shoulder, she too, broke down.

"I'm right here, babe," she said touching Wilson's hand. "I'm going to be right here with you through all of this. Just remember…how much…I love you." Sobs came flowing from Annie as Lydia held her, while her own tears rolled down her cheeks. House was on the other side of the gurney from Annie and the Wilsons, and he watched as they turned away, unable to look at Wilson any more. Everyone, his team, Lydia, Tom and Slick, tried to calm the three down. Even the orderly's attention was drawn away over to the group trying to console Annie and Wilson's parents. House took advantage of all being distracted, and briefly put his hand on Wilson's shoulder. He pulled it away as he realized that Henry Wilson was turning to him.

"James is out of danger now that the operation is over…isn't he?"

"No. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will be the test. Every day he makes it beyond that, is one more point in his favor," House replied. Lydia came over to House as he nodded his head to the orderly to bring Wilson inside the recovery area.

_I know I've got Lydia,_ House thought to himself, _but damn it, Wilson, don't die…I need you, too._


	7. Chapter 7

"Life and Limb"

Chapter Seven – "One Step Forward, Two Steps Back"

By: Purpleu

"Are you going to write the orders or do you want one of us to do it?" Foreman asked.

"I'll do it," House replied as he took a few steps toward the doors of recovery.

"What are you going to put him on?" inquired Chase. House rolled his eyes.

"A diet high in fats, carbs and sugars; Lipitor and insulin to combat all of that, and while I'm at it, I think I'll do something useful and give him Augmentin."

"I thought you'd put him on Augmentin. Didn't remember if it said on Wilson's chart whether he was allergic to penicillin or not," Chase said holding up his hands.

"It doesn't say that, cause he's not; but it should say that, if he was," said House. "Now, I have a patient…one of several…who need my attention." House headed through the doors and into recovery. It was a very overwhelming room to those who were unfamiliar with the sterile atmosphere in the area. There was a simple nurses' station, a supply closet with linens and such, and a medicine cabinet kept under lock and key. There were only the basics in there; any special meds would have to be called into the pharmacy. The most prominent things in the room were the constant whirs, hisses and beeps of the various machines monitoring the patients. There was little to no conversation. Unlike the I.C.U. at PPTH, which had individual rooms, the space here was wide open; the only privacy was provided by a curtain on clanging hooks which could be pulled around the bed. Other than that, it was a picture of communal healing.

House walked over to Wilson's bedside; he had the space nearest the nurses' station, not by design, but by pure dumb luck that it was available. As much as Wilson had tubes and wires coming from everywhere earlier, now he had even more; an NG, nasal-gastric tube was fed through his nose to his stomach, suctioning constantly to keep it empty. A tube was in Wilson's mouth, and went down to his lungs; it connected him to a respirator. House could see that Wilson wouldn't have to stay on that for long; he was doing a pretty good job breathing on his own. When that came out, the NG tube could go too, probably in a couple of hours when Wilson wakes up. He won't stay awake long, but it will hopefully be long enough to calm down his fan club; especially his number one fan. House looked around recovery; it was fairly empty. There were beds to accommodate twenty people, only eight were occupied. He felt satisfied that Wilson would receive proper attention and care. Resting his hand briefly on Wilson's arm, House made his way over to the nurses' station; he saw that one of the ladies in white was handing him Wilson's chart, contained in a black binder with his name and patient ID number going down the spine. He glanced over his shoulder back at Wilson; there was already an aide by his bedside, placing a blanket on him, making sure his bed tray was ready with cups for ice chips, tissues, and a note pad and pencil in case his throat was too sore from the tube to talk. Maybe it was seeing the good post-op care Wilson was already receiving, or maybe he was just calming down in general, but House actually acknowledged the nurse who handed him Wilson's chart with a quick nod of his head. He opened it up and reviewed the information to make sure it was correct.

"Dr. Wilson will be on standard post-operative care, including Augmentin, Dr. House?" The nurse was looking over at Wilson as she spoke, making sure that the aide had prepped the area so that Wilson and anyone who visited him would be comfortable. House glanced at her and smirked.

"Yeah, he's been a good boy, so prime rib and single malt whiskey will be allowed. Hold the strippers until the tubes are out; he won't be able to cat whistle. Oh, and just a suggestion?"

"Yes?"

"Hide your name tag; one of his ex-wives was named Bonnie. I don't think it would thrill either him or his current main squeeze." Bonnie laughed and reached for the sweater on the chair behind her.

"Good thing I brought this with me today," she said. "It's always too cold in here, but starting in the fall, it gets worse." House had finished writing the orders for Wilson and left the chart on the counter. "Let me just give this a quick look," she said. Bonnie was startled to see that House had printed the orders in capital letters. He placed his signature at the end, as required, but the rest…

"Wanted to make sure there were no mistakes," House said seeing the look on her face. Bonnie smiled and nodded.

"I completely understand," she said. "Oh, Dr. House? We're obviously going to call you or a member of your team if there are any medical issues, but who should we call when Dr. Wilson wakes up? You said something about his girlfriend…are his parents here, too? Or…" House took a deep breath. He knew that the Wilsons and Annie would want to see Wilson right away; so would everyone in the waiting room.

"Don't want to overwhelm him; he won't be able to appreciate the floor show. Just page me and I'll play tour guide for the rest of them."

"I can see you doing that," Bonnie said with a laugh. "Dr. House, I heard that Ms. Strohman got hurt during the shooting. Is she OK?" House looked away from the woman. He hadn't given a thought to Lydia's state of being any time in the last hour or two, and the last time he remembered actually taking note of her appearance, she looked like hell. Wilson's been demagnetized, plugged up, and rebuilt; time to move Fraulein up on the list. House explained to Bonnie how Lydia got burned in the incident at the restaurant, but that she was doing fine.

"Oh…Oh, I don't think I could ever get that image out of my mind…a gun put up to my head?" She shivered at the thought. "That poor woman! She's so nice."

"Yeah, she is," House responded, a gentler tone to his voice.

"I don't mean to pry, but…the two of you…are a couple, aren't you?" House looked down at the floor and nodded. He hoped that would be the truth after all of this was said and done; there were a few people who weren't too happy with him right now. "I know this must have been upsetting for you on several levels," Bonnie said looking over at Wilson. "I'm glad everyone's alright." Once again, House felt more secure about how things were going for Wilson; he was able to answer Bonnie the way a person normally would.

"Thanks." It was just one word, but it spoke volumes for House. He headed to the doors that led to the hall. Before opening them, he took a look back at Wilson. Things were better, but there were still miles to go. Just as House anticipated, he was pounced on when he walked into the waiting room.

"How is he doing?" Annie asked.

"Is he awake?" questioned Claudia Wilson.

"When can we see him?" Henry Wilson inquired. House put his thumb and index finger in the corners of his mouth and let loose a loud, ear piercing whistle.

"I have two ears and one brain," he said loudly. "And as cute and tasty as they are and as talented as my brain is, there is only so much information I can process at once." House turned to Annie. "He's doing fine; I made sure he had the hottest nurse in there tend to his personal needs." Annie squinted her eyes at House. "What? You want him to recover quickly, don't you?" He next looked at Mrs. Wilson. "No, he is not awake, yet." Lastly, he begrudgingly looked at Mr. Wilson. "You can see him when he wakes up, in about an hour and a half to two hours." House turned his attention to where the food was spread out. He saw that fresh items were being brought in by workers from Cherry Valley Deli to supplement the leftovers that were brought down from upstairs. Chase, Foreman and Taub had already started helping themselves to the spread. Lydia came up behind House and put her hand on his arm.

"Do you want some coffee or anything to eat?" she asked.

"No. You know what I want?" Lydia shook her head. House backed her up to one of the cushioned chairs in the lounge. "Sit." Lydia glanced behind her, then looked at House.

"I'm not a dog, you know," she said.

"Yeah, but when you wag your tail, you're just as cute." House and Lydia made eye contact, probably for the first time in the past hour or so. Lydia had to smile; she saw Greg, not House looking back at her, but for how long? She slowly sat down in the chair that House had led her to. "Good puppy," House said patting her head. "What do you want?"

"Just some water and kibble," Lydia said with a straight face.

"No, you don't get it," House said. "You're supposed to make this tough on me: oysters Rockefeller, beef Wellington…not water. Especially not kibble." Lydia started laughing.

"Water and one of those apple Danish over there," Lydia said indicating the treat at the far end of the table.

"That apple Danish? All the way over there? Sure, make a gimp take more steps than he has to," House said sarcastically. Lydia's laughter was infectious, and everyone else in the room began to noticeably relax; seeing House tease Lydia was a pleasant sight. She watched House bring her the Danish and hand it to her with a flourish.

"Um…my water?" Lydia asked, trying not to laugh at the look that came over his face.

"Typical Kraut; I give you one piece, and you want the world," House said shaking his head as he went to retrieve Lydia's beverage.

"Lydia, how do you do that?" Taub asked.

"How do I do what?"

"Make him human," Foreman interjected. "I mean, we've seen it emerging slowly in the past few months, but from what everyone has told us, he was busy being House to nth degree while we were operating on Wilson. Now all of a sudden, he's back to showing hints of…of…"

"Don't say it," Tom said laughing. "Just…don't."

"I'll say it…'Greg,'" Chase said. "You are being nice," he said looking at House. "Well, nice for you." House looked down at the coffee he was making for himself.

"So everyone got their rocks off talking about what a bastard I am?" He gave a quick glance in Lydia's direction.

"I wasn't in the room; I was returning a phone call." Pausing as he was about to take a sip of his drink, he processed what Lydia said. She had called his mother's doctors.

"Do I need to get one of my dark suits dry-cleaned? Press a white shirt and pick out a tie?" House made his way over to Lydia and sat down in the chair next to her.

"Greg, if you want, we can take a walk, and I can tell you about the call…"

"I just got you to put your butt in a seat, and you want to go for a stroll? No. At this point, if I could get Foreman to show me how the PA system worked, I'd tell the whole damn hospital what the odds are that Mumsy's going to make it through the night; that way they could place their bets." House felt all eyes on him. "Why the disapproving stares? I don't have any secrets left that are worth hiding. Except for what I did with the package of condoms I found in Thirteen's locker." The comment was mean, the comment was out of line; but it was quite effective. The attention turned away from House and onto Thirteen very quickly.

"Hey, I have a girlfriend right now," Thirteen said holding up her hands. "He can swear to that," she said pointing at Slick.

"You mean you two aren't..." asked Mrs. Wilson.

"No, they're not snuggle bunnies. Thirteen is ambidextrous. Or something with bi- in it," House said. He turned to Lydia. "I'm really the ambidextrous one, aren't I?" Lydia was ready to return the conversation back to the subject of Blythe House, but the look on her boyfriend's face made all serious conversation impossible for the moment as a very pleasant memory entered her mind. _Concentrate on the here and_ _now,_ Lydia said to herself. She took a deep breath and composed her thoughts.

"Greg, you should call the doctors back. In the past couple of hours, your mom has had a series of TIA's; she was up to three when I spoke to them before. They're adjusting some of her medication to see if they can get them to stop. She hasn't had any more arrhythmia, but her heart rate is slightly slower, and an echocardiogram shows a decrease in her ejection fraction from the last test she had a few months ago. The doctors were still discussing what to do about her heart as of ten, fifteen minutes ago," Lydia said as she looked at the clock on the wall. "They weren't going to wait for you to call; I made them fully aware of the situation here. But, if you want to give them your thoughts on things…" House had clasped his hands together and looked at the floor while Lydia was speaking.

"You wanna know what my thoughts are? The whole thing sucks." House stood up, grabbed his cane, and picked his coffee up from the table in front of him. He looked over at Slick. "Feel like taking a walk?" Slick looked startled, but then realized what House was getting at.

"Yeah, yeah…sure." Slick let House lead the way out of the room, but saw Lydia looking at the two curiously. Slick reached up and gave two quick taps to the pack of cigarettes he had in his shirt pocket. Lydia put her head down into her hands.

"Sweetie, what's the matter?" Annie asked coming over to her.

"It's nothing…nothing important, let's put it that way," Lydia said wearily.

"I know what's happening; Slick clued me in before," Thirteen said. "House is bumming a cigarette from him."

"I hope it's only one," Lydia said.

"Had he quit and then gone back?" Claudia Wilson asked. Lydia glanced quickly at Annie.

"She knows our whole story," Annie said.

"Yes, she told us what a brute her brother was," Henry Wilson said. "I don't know how…or why for that matter…you stayed with him."

"The hows and whys can be very complicated," Lydia noted. Either the Wilsons didn't understand her personal history, or didn't want to. "The fact is, my ex-husband smoked, and every time I smell it, it reminds me of him. Slick smokes very little when he's around me, and always goes outside when he does. Maybe I'm just overly sensitive, but when Greg smokes…I smell it on him, his clothes, his breath. He's only had a cigarette since we've been back together, one or two times; usually when a case is going badly."

"And then, after James and Greg asked each of us to move in with them, the four of us made dinner together at the house, and the boys got champagne, chocolate-dipped strawberries, and cigars for themselves to celebrate," said Annie with a smile.

"It makes me feel so good to know that James has such lovely people close to him," Mrs. Wilson said. "Even if, for the life of me, I can't figure out Greg."

"Don't feel too bad Mrs. Wilson," Chase said. "I've known him only a few years less than Wilson has; I can't make heads or tails of the way he thinks sometimes."

"It's really not difficult to understand the basic thing about Greg: he can't stand authority and will attempt to break the rules, just because he can. But if there's a reason, like a patient needs some…procedure done, or a medication that's not normally used for the particular ailment…he will stomp all over the rules to help the patient live. But he doesn't care about patients…he only cares about results and the truth."

"But he'll lie to find out what the truth is," Taub noted.

"Oy! I'd go crazy trying to keep all the ins and outs of his way of thinking straight," Claudia exclaimed.

"He keeps you on your toes, that's for sure," Lydia said.

"Do you want to head outside and see what he's up to? Maybe you can stop him before he smokes too many," Annie suggested.

"No," Lydia said shaking her head. "It might do him some good to vent to someone else; let him get this…and maybe the cigarettes…out of his system…"

"I didn't know you smoked lights," House said taking a heavy drag on his cigarette. "I pictured you to be a Camel smoker."

"You just missed the pack of Dunhill cigs that I had last week," Slick said with a laugh. "Those I like, but they're hard to find unless you go into Manhattan."

"When did you visit the Big, Worm-Eaten Apple?"

"Last week on Monday," Slick said lighting his smoke. "I bought two packs, tried to intersperse them with my regulars, but the difference was so obvious, they were gone in no time."

"Red pack or blue?"

"Red. I've got mainly Irish blood in me, but damn I love those English cigarettes."

"If you head in there again, let me know; I'll have you pick me up a pack," House said flicking his ashes. Slick was puzzled.

"Thought you said you don't really smoke, because Lydia doesn't like it." House nodded as he took a drag.

"She doesn't and I usually don't. But the next time my best friend gets shot, my girlfriend has a gun put to her head, her best friend gets terrorized, I have a patient whose leg looks like a flat tire, my mother's in the I.C.U. a couple of hundred miles away and I have to decide the future fate of my leg…" House looked at Slick. "…I want to be prepared."

"I'm going into the city a lot sooner than the next time you need the smokes, but I'll be sure to let you know." Slicked looked over to House; his eyes were closed, his shoulders were slumped over. "Sorry about your mom." House studied the cigarette in his hand; it wasn't even half-way finished and he knew he was going to need another.

"The problem I have right now," House began. "Is I know I'm supposed to care about what's going on with my mother. Everyone thinks I _should_ care about what's going on with my mother and will be royally pissed if I _don't_ show some outward display of concern. And while all of this is going on, I'm sitting back alternating between wishing she would kick off and get out of my life once and for all…and hoping I can get to her in time to ask why? Was it that important to keep the illusion of the perfect wife going that you let your own kid be crapped on every time I turned around?" House took a hard pull at his cigarette and dropped his head. Slick knew the whole story of House and his family. He, House, Wilson and Tom got together to play poker occasionally, and one night after more than a few drinks, House started talking. It was unbelievable to Slick at first that House was a victim of that kind of abuse; but later on, it was even more shocking to have Wilson confirm it. Slick chose his words to House very carefully.

"If I were you…I'd want her to stick around long enough to get some answers out of her. You deserve them; maybe…she deserves the chance to tell you. Either way, I'd want to talk to her, whether I liked what I heard or not. At least you'd have answers." Slick took a long hit on his cigarette. He hadn't looked at House when he spoke; didn't want to make him feel self-conscious. By the same token, House didn't acknowledge Slick; he just stared off in the distance, with his elbows leaning on the edge of the wall that lined the elevated walkway. The view was nothing more than the employee parking lot; for House, it was the exact amount of nothingness he needed right now. "Hey," Slick said. "Don't mean to be a noodge, but shouldn't you call your mom's doctors?" House sighed.

"I should," He straightened up, took out his phone and went through his directory for the saved numbers. "Problem is, so many things are using up their warranty right now, I'm not sure which help desk to call." Slick took out his phone.

"I've got to check and see if a few of my text messages were returned, and if they were, I'm going to have to either text or call them back. I'll move over this way a little to give you some privacy," Slick said as he moved over to his left. He had kept his phone on silent while he and House were talking, so he had no idea whether there were any calls or not. But just as he suspected there was a text from Lydia. Slick glanced quickly to his right and saw House talking away, a few intense gestures here and there. He quickly sent a text to Lydia…

"Well, Greg's at least called his mother's doctors; he's on the phone with them right now," Lydia said as she read the message from Slick. "He said Greg's only had one cigarette so far, but he can tell he's going to want another."

"Maybe you could interrupt that," Mrs. Wilson said. "You could just stroll outside to get some fresh air and bring Greg a fresh cup of coffee," she said innocently. "If…Slick? Is that his name?" Lydia nodded. "If he could time it right, send you a one word text, maybe…" Claudia Wilson seemed startled by the looks she was getting. Henry Wilson had gone to pace outside the recovery room doors; she checked to see that he was out of earshot. "Look, I haven't stayed married for fifty-four years without a few tricks up my sleeve. Modern technology has just made it easier." Everyone in the room started cracking up at Mrs. Wilson's no-nonsense, to-the-point way to handle domestic bliss.

"Oh, that is good, that is really good," Foreman said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "You know your son wouldn't approve."

"That's because it would remind him of Greg too much," Lydia said laughing. Even more laughter came, to the point that Mr. Wilson re-entered the room.

"What's so funny?" he asked looking quite befuddled. He saw that the laughter was so genuine, that in a few seconds, even he had a smile on his face.

"We were just talking about the modern way of life and useful ways to use the new advancements science has given us," Claudia said with a smile. She patted the seat of the chair next to her. "Come on, Henry, sit down. It's going to be a long night." Henry Wilson reluctantly sat down next to his wife, who saw that Lydia was sending a text message…

"Damn! Mother…" House let loose with a blue streak of curses.

"Whoa!" said Slick as he quickly replied to Lydia's text. "What happened?" House dropped his cigarette butt on the ground.

"All I need is for her to keep kicking for a few more days, and they don't even know if she can do that. She's getting a double whammy of her heart and vascular system slowly crapping out at the same time." Slick looked away for a moment to the door that would lead to the elevated pathway he and House were on. _Come on Lydia, hurry up,_ he thought.

"Hate to ask, but have they given you an idea of how long?"

"Could be hours, could be weeks. On top of it all, they want someone up here to talk to good old Reverend Bell. Seems he's been having anxiety attacks and with the last one, he had trouble breathing. Probably just all of the stress that's going on; not that I can't relate." Slick felt the stress he was experiencing leave his body as the door to his right opened and Lydia stepped out onto the walkway.

"Hi, how are you two doing?" she asked as she walked over to House.

"Oh, I'm just hunky-dory," House replied sarcastically. He looked over and saw the cup of coffee Lydia was holding.

"I thought either you'd finished the cup you brought out with you, or it was cold," Lydia said as she offered the drink.

"Yeah, and the Boy Scout over there," House said indicating Slick, "Texted you that I snagged a cigarette from him." House reached over and took the coffee from Lydia.

"I think I'm going to head back inside; that coffee smells good and I need something to keep me awake," said Slick as began his hasty exit, and started to walk to the door. "I worked an overnight and had some things to take care of after that. Then I got the call from Thirteen. I haven't slept in over twenty-four hours."

"Slick! You should go home and get some rest. Everything is settling down here," Lydia said. Slick looked at her and smiled.

"Yes, Mother Hen," he replied in a teasing tone. "I'll get some sleep after I know that Wilson's awake and you guys have spoken to him." He gave House a quick tap on the shoulder as he passed by him to go inside.

"Can I grab one more from you for later?" House called over his shoulder as Slick reached the door. Lydia looked over at Slick and saw he was torn between helping House out and doing what she would prefer.

"Let him have it," Lydia said shrugging her shoulders. "It might delay him buying a whole pack." Slick walked back over, handed House a cigarette and his lighter.

"Keep it," Slick said indicating the lighter. "I always carry a spare." He glanced at Lydia and quickly headed to the door.

"You know, Slick didn't have to tell me anything," Lydia said moving closer to House. "He's the only smoker in the room and you suddenly want him to join you for a walk. Besides, even a fish wouldn't get caught if it kept its mouth shut." House took a sip of his coffee.

"So when does the lecture start?" he asked, knowing Lydia's strong dislike for smoking.

"There's no lecture. Did I lecture you the other two times you indulged when you were having a rough time with a case?"

"The fact that you can remember the exact number of times I've engaged in the demonic pleasure is a good indication to me that you'd love to ream me out about it." Lydia smiled and draped her arm over House's hunched shoulders.

"I just happen to think that people who smoke aren't creative enough to think of something better to do with their mouths." Lydia leaned her head against House's. "And I know that doesn't apply to you." Despite his lousy mood, House managed a slight smile.

"You got a few seconds of happy out of me just now. As usual." House tapped the lighter Slick gave him on the wall's edge. "I called my mother's doctors, as you probably know." He walked a few steps away from Lydia, stumbling as he did.

"Greg!" Lydia quickly came beside him. "Why don't you just sit down and rest for a little? You don't have to be on your feet to talk."

"If your implying that I'm less than perfect because I donated the plasma…" House stumble once again; luckily, Lydia was there to help him. "…you just may be right." He sat down on the nearest bench. Lydia retrieved his coffee cup which he left on the wall. "Thanks." House told Lydia how they seemed to have the TIA's under control…for now. Ideally, a catheterization should be done to see where any blockages are in her heart, or if it is the heart muscle itself failing.

"They're not giving any kind of realistic time frame of when she could bite the big one; they can't. And on top of it all, Bell is freaking out, having attacks and trouble breathing." Lydia looked at House with concern.

"I'm hoping you mean anxiety attacks." House nodded. "Even so…that poor man. He's down there all alone. Did you call him?" House gave her a look.

"I didn't think 'Hi, person who may or may not be my dad; how are you feeling as you watch my mom die?' would be very well received." Lydia rolled her eyes in exasperation. She was a very patient person, but even she was nearing her breaking point.

"I talked to Reverend Bell right before I got out of my car and headed to the restaurant. We got on just fine. Why don't I call him and put him on speaker phone; that way he can hear the both of us. He has no idea what's happened here, and since it's delaying your going down there…"

"Among other things," House replied.

"What else is there?"

"Your patient, who is actually mine, but I'm letting you have a crack at him," House said fingering the cigarette Slick gave him. "I'm not leaving till I know that this case is on its way to a resolution."

"Why not? You've walked away from cases before. It's what you have a team for. You can stay in contact with them over the phone," Lydia said. "You're using the case as an excuse to not go see your mother."

"Quite the contrary; I'm not. I'm actually hoping she hangs in there until I can talk to her one last time and get some answers," House said thinking about his conversation with Slick. "Make the call," he said indicating Lydia's phone. "Maybe if we can keep Billy Graham Lite calm, he'll rub off on my mother." Lydia reluctantly dialed the number. She wanted to talk more to House about his putting off a very necessary trip to Virginia; it would have to wait until later.

"Hello? Lydia, is that you, dear?" Reverend Bell said as he answered his phone.

"Yes, Reverend Bell, and Greg is here with me, too."

"Oh, thank God! The doctors were talking outside of Blythe's room. She may have a lot going on with her, but her hearing and mind are still sharp. We heard that you wouldn't be coming down because you people were hurt in a shooting."

"Which is why they should learn to use their inside voices," House said.

"Oh, Greg, it is so good to hear your voice! I'm in the room with your mother…let me put this on speaker so she can hear you." Lydia saw House squirm uncomfortably as he heard the sounds of Bell handling the phone and changing it to speaker. "There we go. Blythe, darling, he's OK. Here, you can hear him." House swallowed hard and started to talk.

"Hi, Mom; giving the doctors down there a hard time, just like my patients do to me?" He heard labored breathing.

"Greg," Blythe House said weakly and with a slight slur. "I was…so afraid you were hurt."

"No, Mom, I'm OK; Wilson got badly hurt, though." There was a pause. "He lost a lot of blood and he had to have an artificial hip put in."

"He's…he's a young man. He'll be good, especially…if you're taking care of him." It pained House to hear his mother's voice like this, struggling to get words out. The one thing that was hopeful, was that her mind seemed to be all there; but House knew that could be a false hope.

"What in the world happened, lad?" Bell asked.

"It'd be better if Lydia told the story," House said looking at her. He didn't really want to put the burden on her, knowing how weepy she would get; but she was there for the whole sad series of events and would be a better storyteller.

"Lydia?" Blythe asked. "Who is she?"

"I wanted Greg to tell you, lovey; it should come from him," Reverend Bell said. House closed his eyes; he wasn't ashamed or embarrassed to tell his mother about Lydia. It's just that he felt like he was thirteen and his first crush had been discovered.

"Lydia is my girlfriend, Mom…Mom?"

"I thought…you were going to say…wife." Lydia started to laugh, while House stared at the phone in disbelief.

"Mrs. House, this is Lydia, Lydia Strohman," she said introducing herself as she continued to chuckle. "You were there for the miracle of Greg's birth, I wouldn't dream of denying you the miracle of him getting married." The laughter from Bell could be heard loud and clear through the phone.

"You just put the biggest smile on my dear Blythe's face…as much as she can smile, of course."

"She obviously knows her son," Lydia said. House put his left arm on his knee and rested his hand in his upturned palm as he looked at Lydia with amazement. She had the ability to talk to anyone, anywhere, and make them feel completely comfortable. He dreaded calling Bell: he knew the reverend would drag his mother into the conversation, and House wasn't sure he could handle it. Listening to Lydia, you would think she was talking to two old friends and just catching them up on things. She certainly had her father's innate diplomatic ability. Lydia related the story of the shooting with only a few tears; she also left out the less than wonderful parts about House's behavior. She did make sure to tell them about his donating plasma to Wilson, though. When she had finished, Lydia had brought Mrs. House and Reverend Bell completely up to date on the events of the night.

"That must have been a terrible ordeal for you, you dear thing. It's wonderful how you were able to help save Greg's friend's life," Bell said.

"Where did you and…Greg meet?" Blythe asked, still speaking slowly; she was trying to make sure she was understood despite slurring her words. Lydia, not knowing what House told his mother, quickly mouthed the words 'Does your mother know about Mayfield?' to House, who shook his head.

"Annie is not just James' girlfriend; she's my best friend. After she was attacked by some robbers who had broken into her apartment, she fell into a catatonic state. She eventually was placed in a facility for people with psychological problems…"

"Mayf…field." House's mouth fell open when his mother named the facility where he had spent months detoxing and trying to repair his damaged psyche.

"You knew. You knew I was locked in that hell hole, but you never even tried to call?" House said spitting his words out with venom.

"No…no," House and Lydia could hear Blythe's voice trail off.

"Greg, she tried to call you," Bell said. "She said that some doctor…"

"Nolan," House and Lydia said together with equal disgust.

"Ye…yes. He said it would…be better if we did…didn't talk. Said part of the…problem was your childhood."

"He said WHAT?" Lydia shouted. "Forgive me, but he had no right to discuss any aspect of Greg's case with you."

"I don't blame him if he did hate me." It was the strongest thing Blythe had managed to say all evening. "How you…met doesn't…matter. I'm…very glad you did." The sound of alarms going off on the machines monitoring Blythe House could be heard in the background.

"What the hell is happening?" House asked grabbing the phone out of Lydia's hand.

"Lovey, please, please calm down. Your machines are talking to you; they're saying you're wasting electricity. The hospital's utility bill will be enormous if you don't stop making them go off."

"She's not an idiot; she doesn't need patronizing talk like that from you. What alarms are going…" The alarms fell silent. House heard the sound of the machines coming through the phone.

"They've stopped," Bell said. "Her heart rate and blood pressure went up high enough to make these blasted things sing." House rolled his eyes at the reverend's overly colorful description of the monitors' warning system. "Eh? Oh, no, she's fine. She got a little overwrought while talking to her son. Of course, just tell me when." House couldn't hear who Bell was talking to, but he wanted to speak to his mother again. "Greg, in a few minutes, they want me to step out while they empty her catheter, take a urine sample and do a few other things. It seems the last time they emptied the bag it was a bit foggy."

"Do me a favor: put the phone back near my mother so she can hear me," House said.

"Blythe? Blythe, darling?" House heard Reverend Bell say. "I'm going to have to step out in a minute so they can attend to a few of your needs. Greg wants to talk to you before I leave. Here she is, lad."

"Mom? I…I want to talk to you about a lot of things. I need to have answers…" House began. "But Wilson is still in recovery and I have a patient, young guy going to be a father. If I can't figure out what's wrong with him, he won't just lose a leg, he'll lose his life."

"I know…you need …answers. I know you do. I'm going to give…it my all…to hang on until you…can get here. You take care of…Wilson and that…young father. They'll…they'll be alright. You're a brilliant…doctor. I've always…been so…proud of you." House's eyes stared to water. Why couldn't he have heard this years ago? "You know…before you met…Wilson…I worried about you…so much." Blythe could be heard taking a deep breath so she could force her words out. "But…after I saw…the kind of…friends you two were…I knew you would be OK." House dropped his head down as he fought back tears. Was his mother really feeling this emotional about him? Or, to paraphrase comedian Bill Cosby, was he listening to an old person trying to get into heaven? House shook his head; the Norse gods' Valhalla held more meaning for him than either of the H-words. "They're here…to take…care of me. Greg…I love you." House took several deep breaths, then looked over at Lydia. Her face held no reaction; she was a good poker player and was leaving this for House to decide what to say.

"I love you, too, Mom." House wondered if he said the right thing the minute he got the words out, but the look that came over Lydia's face told him it was all good.

"Greg, don't end the call yet; I need to talk to you for just a minute," Bell said. House heard him telling his mother that he would be right back in. Lydia had come over to House and put her arm around him; it was good since he felt he was going to need the physical as well as the emotional support. "I'm back, son."

"Don't use that word with me, will you?" House asked. "Son? That's not an established fact and I doubt it will ever be. I don't see what good it would do either of us. At my age, it's a little late to start going to ballgames and 'puttering around' together."

"It doesn't mean we can't try and be friends." Bell's words hung in the air over House.

"Yeah, sure, drinking buddies, great. You play poker? 'Cause Lydia's got two kids that'll steal the Goldfish crackers right out from under your nose." House reached for his coffee; it had cooled off significantly, but he didn't care.

"Greg, I…told your mother what you said to me…all those things about the past. She knows…she knows she doesn't have long…she finally opened up to me about so very many things…I can't even begin to tell you," Reverend Bell said, his voice cracking. "When you get down here, she has so much she needs to say. The pain she has kept buried…"

"Yeah, well, funny thing: my pain isn't buried. It's right there, out in the open for all to see. And I'm not just talking about my leg." House pushed himself up from the bench and began to pace around. He wobbled several times, to the point that Lydia jumped up and tried to stay near him. "You think because you were the one who had to help me put a bike together, when Marine John couldn't be bothered, that it's an example of his abuse? Is that what you're going to tell me? Or the times that you played catch with me when he refused to, because he had to go meet the 'boys' at the officers club? Then he pointed out to me that they were more important to him than I was? That's nothing! That's not even neglect! You have no idea what I've been through!" Despite the cool autumn evening, Lydia could see beads of sweat forming on House's brow and running down the side of his face.

"Greg, please sit down, you're going to make yourself sick," Lydia said quietly. She rested her hand on his arm, but he quickly pulled it away.

"Lad, I do know, I do know what you've been through. Blythe has confessed; she's told me everything…"

"Confessed? One of your business catch words, or don't they say things like that in your little black book?" He grabbed his cup of coffee off the bench, and took a large gulp. It caught in his throat, and he began to cough, hard. He was still near enough to the bench that Lydia was able to guide House to it and sat him down.

"Lydia, is Greg OK?" Bell asked.

"He's fine; coffee went down the wrong way," Lydia said with a false cheerfulness. In fact, Lydia was becoming concerned with House's appearance; besides sweating, she saw his hands shaking, and breathing becoming more labored. Plus he was white as a ghost.

"Greg, you weren't the only victim in all of this. He went after your mother, my poor lovey, too. You don't know…you don't know the stories she told me," Bell said his voice cracking.

"And that's all they probably were…stories. But she's had you by the gonads for years, so you'll believe anything she tells you," House replied. He was using his hands to push the sweat out of his eyes. Lydia pulled a napkin out of her pocket and handed it to him. He took it from her, stood up, and wiped his face as he began to walk again. "If you know all these horror stories, why don't you tell me? I don't need to be there; I have no problem hearing it over the phone. You're sure as hell not going to hold my hand as you tell me all of this icky stuff." House stumbled several times again, the last time, bouncing off the wall.

"Greg!" Lydia exclaimed. He didn't even acknowledge her; he just turned his back to her and kept pacing.

"I think she should be the one to tell you, Greg, not me."

"At the rate she's going, her vocal chords may be permanently paralyzed by the time I get there. Especially if the man in her life keeps wilting like flowers in a dry spell." House leaned against the wall, looked at Lydia briefly and turned away again; he couldn't deal with the look in her eyes right now.

"I'll tell you some things now if you want, but I think you'd better sit down."

"Oh, this ought to be good," House said to Lydia, giving her a look. He went back to the bench and with dramatic flair, sat down. "OK, lay some stuff on me." House and Lydia heard Bell clear his throat; then before he even spoke, they could hear his tears.

"John House…tried to kill you before you were even born. Blythe hid her pregnancy as long as she could, but…she finally had to tell him. He flew into a rage, an absolute rage! He knew the child she was carrying wasn't his. He threw her…down the back steps, and tried to make her miscarry by kicking her repeatedly, over and over. He was a mad man; he wouldn't stop. Your mother...was so brave. She curled up in a ball to protect her belly, and he finally stopped when some neighbors who heard the commotion called out to her. He went back into the house, put his uniform on…and left her there to go to a meeting. She crawled back in…" Bell stopped for a moment as his tears got the better of him. "…and when he came home, he acted like nothing had ever happened."

"Oh my…" Lydia had tears streaming down her face. She felt the pain of the incident Reverend Bell had relayed to them; as a mother and as an abused wife. She looked at House, she saw the confusion, the hurt, the disbelief. She didn't know what to say. "Oh my God, Greg…"

"Then, then there was the time you dropped the cookie jar," Bell said through his tears. "She sent you to your room…not as punishment…"

"She told me to get under my bed and hide. Not to come out until she came for me," House said quietly, as if in a trance.

"That's right. She tried…she tried so hard to get it cleaned up before he came home…but she was in the middle of it…he didn't go to find you. The bastard took it all out on her. My lovey…"

"When she came to get me out from under the bed, she had changed what she was wearing, probably to hide any blood…" House suddenly had one of his epiphanies; but not with usual pleasant results. "That's why she always wore long sleeves and only wore pants, when most women back then usually wore skirts," House said. "She told me it was because she was always cold." He shook his head as he tried to get the image out of his head. "She did it to hide the bruises."

"She tried to protect you, so very many times. Blythe took on all she could from that monster. She was willing to risk her own life to save yours on more than one occasion." House was feeling sick and kept taking sips of coffee to push it down; he knew it was a bad idea, but that was all he could do at the moment. "There weren't shelters around back then, like there are now. No hotlines to call. She had no relatives to run to; no friends except me. He wouldn't let her make any. Depending on where they lived, I was nothing more than a pen pal. And she never told me about the beatings; she told me she had bad equilibrium and fell a lot. The bruises she said were from a vitamin deficiency."

"So John House was beating her even before she became pregnant?" Lydia asked.

"Yes. Their marriage was an arranged match. John had another woman he was in love with and wanted to marry. But his family stopped him; he was the grandson and son of well-known Marine officers. Blythe's grandfather and father held the same positions. The two families decided these two had to get together and produce the next generation of proud Marines," Bell explained.

"Yeah and it was after they were married that John found out he couldn't pro-create because he had mumps when he was twenty," House added in. "it made him sterile. That's how he knew I wasn't his kid."

"Boy, there is so…very much more that your mother wants to tell you and…even if she's not in any shape to talk when you can see fit to come…she begged me to please make sure that I told you. She loves you very, very much, Greg."

"Y…yeah; she told me that." House's mind was a blur as a new/old thought now entered his head: that Reverend Thomas Bell could be his father. He certainly assumed that role whenever John wasn't around, and yet, at the time, he couldn't even know that it was a possibility. Was it gut instinct? House's mother had given him false information about the due date… House shook his head; there was too much going on to properly consider it all. House suddenly heard some commotion come through over the phone.

"Lad, they've finished with your mother; I want to go back in. The nurse just told me they think she has a UTI, and they're testing her pee now."

"Great. Something else to worry about. Look," House said as he stood up. "I'll be down there as soon as I can. It'll be a few days. Do…do whatever you have to so she keeps going. Not having anxiety attacks would be step one."

"I know. I feel much better now that you've spoken to her…and me," Reverend Bell said. "I'll keep you up-to-date on things. And I'll keep you and your lovely lady and your friends in my prayers. Good-bye, Lydia, Good-bye, Greg."

"Good-bye Reverend Bell," Lydia said, leaning into House to make sure she was heard.

"Bye," was House's simple sign-off. He handed the phone to Lydia and lurched toward the trash barrel a few feet away. He leaned over and Lydia could hear that he was vomiting violently. Luckily, she still had some napkins in her pocket. In a few minutes, she saw House straighten up; without being invasive, Lydia held out the napkins to him. He glanced to his right and took them; he wiped his mouth with one and the sweat off his face with the other. He made his way back to the bench and sat down again. The combination of the havoc that donating the plasma took on his body, along with the emotional sucker punch he had just taken, was extracting a toll on House.

"Do you want some water?" Lydia said, offering the bottle he had given her earlier. House nodded and took several large swigs from the bottle. "Greg, easy; you'll wind up making yourself sick again."

"Again? Try still," House replied. He stared off in front of him, not saying a word for several minutes. Lydia stayed next to House, gently rubbing his back. She didn't even know if he was aware that she was there, or what she was doing.

"For years, I wasn't sure how to feel about my mother," House said. "I thought she was a selfish bitch, just popped me out because she was expected to, and didn't really give a rat's ass about me; except on those occasions when society decided that she should play the parental part. That bastard beat her, punished her for existing, just like he did me. I thought I was the only one hurting…" Lydia reached over and ran her hand down House's face; she brought her fingers under his chin and turned his face to her.

"How could you have known about any of it? She hid it from the person closest to her, Reverend Bell. Your mother did what she thought was necessary to protect the two of you. Face it, if Bell tried to interfere, John probably would have gone after him. Blythe did it out of love."

"And I've spent how many years cursing her out? Going on like I did in front of Wilson's parents before?" House stood, hobbled over to the wall, and grabbed the cigarette and lighter off the top of it. He lit the smoke and took a drag. "I've been telling everyone…you, Wilson, Annie…anyone who would listen, how I'm the way I am because of her and how she wouldn't do anything to stop John House," House's voice was getting louder and more intense. "Now I find out that I'm lucky to be alive…and I owe it to her?" House kicked the trash can he had used before. The violent action threw him off balance, and brought him to his knees. "And the man…" House said gasping in pain, "…I thought was a moral degenerate for sleeping with my mother, a married woman, not only is probably my father, but he was the only stability my mother ever knew!" As much as Lydia hated the smell of cigarettes, she forced herself over to the trash barrel where House was now sitting on the ground. House's cigarette had rolled away from him when he fell. Lydia spotted it and picked it up.

"Do you still want this?" she asked holding it out to him.

"No," House said quietly. Lydia laid it on the ground and stepped on it with the side of her shoe.

"So, Reverend Bell was a moral degenerate for sleeping with a married woman, but it was OK when you slept with me," Lydia said gently rubbing his shoulder. House shot a glance in her direction.

"It was different with the two of us; you were in a miserable situation…"

"Just like your mother," Lydia countered.

"Yeah, but Bell had no idea how bad things really were; she hid it from him."

"And I didn't tell just how bad things were with me until I moved back here." House turned to Lydia.

"Whose side are you on?" House asked.

"I'm not on anyone's side," Lydia said. "I'm stating the facts. And the facts are, you slept with a married woman, just like Reverend Bell did."

"I've slept with more than one," House said under his breath. Lydia knew about the time he slept with Stacy when she came back to PPTH looking for help for her husband Mark. She didn't want to think about or know if there were any others. "You never told me how bad things were, but I could tell. When I just held your hand, it made you sigh. There were plenty of signs."

"And I'm sure the good Reverend saw signs in your mother, too. I know you don't want to think of your mother like that, but she's a warm-blooded woman…"

"For now," House interrupted. "Actually, it makes her all the more human in my eyes. You always want to be like that with the person you love." He looked at Lydia for a moment, but then more somber thoughts entered his head. "I can't get out of my mind the picture of her on the ground with that ego-inflated bastard standing above her, kicking her to make her miscarry. I can think of more subtle ways to accomplish the same thing. He could have used a slow release poison; she would have died while he was away on tour, nobody would have suspected a thing."

"I'm going to have to remind myself to check my glass of iced tea when you pour it for me from now on," Lydia said, standing up and retrieving House's cane.

"I'd never do that to you," House said as he looked up at Lydia. He took his cane and leaned on it to help him stand up. "I just told you about that method and you're already on alert. I'll have to come up with something else." He took a few steps to test himself; he looked over and expected to see Lydia smiling or giving him a dirty look, but he saw neither; there were tears in her eyes. "Hey, you know I'm joking."

"I know." She put her arms around House, and despite the cigarette smell that lingered on him, gave him a kiss. "I'm just so happy that you've broken the ice with you mother, and she's willing to talk. I wish you would go down there as soon as Wilson is awake and let your team handle Kevin Sheeler's case." House shook his head.

"I already have too many mice running around on the play wheel in my head. I won't be able to deal with my mother while Wilson and the other case are on my mind."

"And how are you going to handle Wilson's care and figure out the other case if you don't get the issues going on down in Virginia out of your head?" Lydia countered.

"As usual, I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't." He tossed his coffee cup into the trash receptacle, leaned against the wall, and stared out over the parking lot in silence. "I'm heading inside," House said after a few minutes. He pushed off the wall and started to go toward the door. Lydia stood still as tears rolled down her cheeks; they were tears of frustration, that she couldn't do more to help House. If only there was something….

"Hey, Fraulein!" Lydia quickly brushed the tears away and turned to House. "Wilson's waking up!"


	8. Chapter 8

"Life and Limb"

Chapter Eight-"Life is What Happens While You're Making Other Plans"

By: Purpleu

Lydia caught up with House a few feet past the door from the walkway. He was leaning heavily on his cane, but still moving quickly, a determined look on his face.

"Greg, slow down; he's not going anywhere," Lydia said as she tried to keep up with the strides that House's long legs took.

"I want to be there when he wakes up; get those damn tubes out of him so he can talk," House replied.

"Did the nurse in recovery say he tried to open his eyes?"

"No. He seems to be aware of the fact that he can't move his legs due to the epidural we gave him to keep the pain meds down to a dull roar. He keeps trying to move his hands to touch his legs and he can't because we have him roped and tied," House said pausing to take a drink from the water fountain on the wall and a few deep breaths besides.

"Where's the water bottle you had?" Lydia asked, looking at the pocket on the scrubs House was wearing.

"I must have left it on the bench." Lydia looked at his face; he still looked a ghastly white color.

"Greg, hold still a minute." Lydia reached into the pocket of her scrubs and fished around. She managed to pull out one last napkin. She moistened it in the water fountain, and began to wipe House's face. "You have some remnants from your throwing up before. I don't think you want James to see you like that." House was impatient, he wanted to get moving; but he was also grateful for the concern toward him and Wilson. Although Lydia wasn't the kind of person to expect anything in return for her kindness, House knew more and more as crap kept piling up, he wanted to do or give something special to her when all of this was over. Nothing _that_ special, but something that would make her happy, a weekend trip or just some time alone. Life was dumping on him, as usual, but because of Lydia, it hurt just a little bit less.

"Am I presentable yet? Or do you want to check behind my ears and see if my nails are dirty while you're at it?" Lydia shook her head and smiled.

"You look like you've been through the ringer," she said. "But at least you're clean." She tossed the used napkin in the nearby receptacle and continued on with House.

"When we get to the waiting room, you peel off and hold back the maddening throng while I check on the Boy Wonder. I'll do what I can to make him a more pleasing site."

"And when you do, you'll feel better that James is doing well," Lydia noted.

"That, too. He's got a few more hurdles in his way; stumbling over them is a common, yet unsettling thing to deal with. For us as well as him." When they got near the waiting room, Lydia quickened her pace to a trot so she could distract everyone while House went into recovery.

"I'm off to play security guard," Lydia said quietly to House. "I'll see you in a bit. I love you."

"Love you, too," House said with equally hushed tones. _Boy, do I love you; more than I'm comfortable with_ _sometimes, _House thought. He put all other ideas, Lydia and his mother included, out of his head as he entered the recovery room. House looked toward Wilson, and saw that Bonnie, the nurse had been right: Wilson was moving his head back and forth slightly, clenching and unclenching his hands. The bed restraints were preventing him from accomplishing too much of anything, but was he ever trying to make a break for it. Those things were going to be the first things to go after House made eye contact with Wilson; they reminded him too much of his time in Mayfield.

"Hi," Bonnie said as she met House by the foot of Wilson's bed. "Here's his chart; his vitals have been getting stronger as he gets closer to waking up. But look at his urine." House looked down and saw that is was decidedly brownish/red in tone.

"We've already emptied one bag," Bonnie said. "That one got progressive darker as time passed, and took on the slight reddish hue the more it filled up. It didn't look too bad at first; we thought the catheter was irritating him. But when we watched this bag…I was going to call you any way, even if he wasn't waking up," Bonnie said, glancing at Wilson with concern. House flipped open Wilson's chart and looked it over quickly; Wilson was doing well enough, but House knew what could be lurking under the surface, and he was concerned. He closed the binder and handed it back to Bonnie.

"Let's extubate him, NG as well as respiratory. Before we do that, let me give him a wake-up call so he can be helpful with his own care. Just so you know, and make whoever is taking care of Wilson know this too…He's not going to be acting like the charming and boyish Dr. Wilson you all know and love. There are times he's going to be sounding like a real bastard."

"I'll go get what's needed," Bonnie said, taken back by what House told her. She hurried over to the nurses' station and started talking to an aide, gesturing toward Wilson's bed. House took a deep breath, and placed his hand on Wilson's shoulder.

"ABBA has decided to re-unite to do a private concert just for you. But only if you open your eyes," House said, sounding like a disc jockey promoting a show. Wilson's eyes fluttered open; he tried to focus, but the lights were too bright for him. House picked up on the problem.

"We're going to need the lights to get a couple of the tubes out. Once Florence Nightingale and I do that, I'll switch things around so you don't feel like you're being interrogated by Dick Tracy," he said. Wilson started struggling against the restraints; House swore he was mouthing the word "Why?"

"Take it easy; you're sending your heart rate and pressure through the roof. You're restrained because like most patients, you think you know more than your doctor does and you want to pull the damn tubes out. I will attempt to perform such a feat now with help of my lovely assistant," House said indicating Bonnie, who had joined him at the bedside. The two worked quickly, and in no time, Wilson could speak; or at least try to. Wilson cleared his throat several times before he tried to say anything.

"House," he managed to croak out. "I can't…feel my legs…"

"That's because I have you on an epidural; keeps your need for pain meds low, thereby preventing you from becoming me."

"That's the last thing…I want." Wilson said it seriously, and as such it was a harsh statement; but House knew that between just coming out of anesthesia, the blood loss and the trauma of the event, Wilson would be saying a number of things without a filter. House undid the bed restraints; Wilson moved his hands around and wiggled his fingers to get the blood flowing.

"Here…take some of these," House said as he scooped up some ice chips with a spoon and offered them to Wilson. He slowly opened his mouth just enough for House to slide the ice chips off the spoon. "Don't start chewing them," House said putting down the cup and spoon. "Annie came back on Tuesday, you can't be sexually frustrated already." Wilson swallowed the little bit of water he gleaned from the ice; it was extremely soothing to his throat.

"Where is Annie?" he asked, his voice at little stronger, and sounding more like the Wilson that House knew.

"She's out in the waiting room, along with your parents, and about half the population of the city of Princeton," House said as he sent Lydia a text message. "They'll be in here soon. Just gave the all clear."

"Why the hell did you call my parents? I don't need them…them carrying on like I'm dead already," Wilson mumbled as he took another spoonful of ice from House.

"I didn't; Songbird did." House was glad he managed to dodge the bullet on that one.

"I…" Wilson turned his head toward the door as he heard familiar voices. His parents, Annie and Lydia came into view.

"Keep it down to a dull roar, will you?" House asked. "He may be the great and powerful Oz around here as a member of the management team, but we still can be asked to leave if your enthusiasm disturbs the other zombies in the room."

"Oh, my God, James!" Annie gave Wilson a very careful hug and a kiss. "Honey, I'm so glad to see you sitting up…"

"I'm not sitting, I'm tilting," Wilson corrected.

"Oh, whatever," she said dismissively. "You look so much better than when I saw you in the E.R. When your heart stopped…I thought mine was going to also." Annie tried not to cry, but it was no use.

"Please…please tell me there are tissues handy," Wilson said. "Lots of them. When she starts…she doesn't stop."

"There's a box here, on the bed tray," Lydia said showing it to Wilson and then offering it to Annie. Wilson let out at little laugh.

"You'll need something five…no ten times that size…for Weepy Wilma." Annie looked hurt by the comment; Lydia was surprised. Wilson's parents blocked his view of House, who gestured with his hand that the women should take it easy.

"James," Claudia Wilson said. "Dad and I are both here." She took her son's hand and very gently began to rub it.

"Yeah…I can see that, Mom. Dad shouldn't be dealing with this kind of stress. It's no good for either of you," Wilson said squeezing his mother's hand. "Plus I don't need…I don't want…the hassle of listening to the two of you…lament over your wounded son." Wilson shook his head. "I…I'm sorry, Mom, Dad…I didn't mean that…the way it sounded." Wilson's eyes had a look of fear in them as he took in each of the faces around him. "Annie, did…did I hit my head when I fought with the guy…all because you wouldn't give him that damn necklace?" Wilson closed his eyes as soon as he finished speaking.

"No." Annie replied. She forced herself not to break down; she knew something was wrong. This was not the James Wilson she knew and loved. House stepped out from behind Wilson's parents; Wilson made immediate eye contact with him. The confusion of why he was sounding more like House than Wilson could clearly be seen as he quickly shifted his gaze from one person to another.

"Son, you've been through a very rough time. From what they," Henry Wilson indicated Lydia and Annie. "And Greg have told us, you're lucky to be alive." Wilson started coughing as he tried to answer his father. Annie picked up the spoon and the cup with ice chips that House had left on the bed tray and began to feed some to Wilson. She managed to give him one or two spoonfuls that had more water than ice; for that Wilson was grateful.

"Thanks, Babe. That feels much better." He looked her up and down, a look of curiosity coming over his face. "Why…Why are you in scrubs?"

"Lydia and I got so much blood on us that we had to change and take showers. Lydia had to have Greg help her because she couldn't get her hands wet with the bandages on them."

"Wha…What?" Wilson looked over at Lydia who held up her hands to show him the bandages on her fingers. His eyes grew bigger as he saw them and the bandage on her head. "I…can't remember things clearly. I don't…remember…"

"After the trauma you've been through, that's not surprising," Wilson's dad said. "You should take it easy; maybe when you've rested…"

"Maybe…when I don't have you telling me what to do…I'll be better off. I'm a…a grown man, for God's sake!" House glanced at the monitors, and saw that Wilson's pulse and BP were going up again; dangerously high, in fact. He casually moved around to the side of the bed where the IV's were hanging, and increased the rate of the morphine just enough so that Wilson would go back out. He had done too much socializing already.

"James! Your father's just trying to be supportive of you," Mrs. Wilson said. "You don't need…"

"I don't need you hovering over me! I'm…I'm fine. I've got Annie." Wilson reached out toward Annie, who took his hand. "She's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Even," he said starting to laugh slightly as he began to feel the effects of the additional morphine. "Even if…even if it is really creepy…how she didn't talk to anyone…for ten? Ten years?" Wilson said as he looked at Annie. His grip on her hand loosened, and he began to slide to his left. House grabbed him, and prevented him from falling against the bed rails.

"Nurse!" Lydia called out as she came around to help House as best she could with her bandaged fingers. Annie joined Mr. and Mrs. Wilson who had moved to the foot of the bed; they stood huddled together, not knowing what to do. Bonnie, the nurse, came hurrying over with an aide. With the two of them working together, Wilson was properly reposition.

"Thank you," Lydia said to the women.

"No problem. You're not up to doing too much right now," Bonnie said. "How are you feeling?" she asked, looking back and forth between Lydia and Annie.

"Trying to hold on," Lydia said ruefully.

"I'd feel better if I knew what was going on," Annie said. "Why was he acting like that? That's not James. And why is his pee brown?" Claudia and Henry Wilson gasped as they looked down at the bag that hung to the front right of their son's bed.

"There's lots of answers to the tons of questions all of you have," House said. "I need to tell my team and anyone who's dealing with Wilson over the next few days what the scoop is. Go back into the waiting area…drink, nosh…whatever you want to do. I'll be in to give you the lowdown in a few." Mrs. Wilson came over to the side of Wilson's bed, ran her hand through his hair, then leaned down to give her son a kiss on his cheek.

"Ayt gezunt shnel," Claudia Wilson said as she started to cry. "Mwtʻr lyb ʼyr." She stepped back to allow her husband to come in. Henry Wilson looked down on his son and shook his head back and forth.

"Come on, Jimmy; fight for it, damn it!" He kissed his son's cheek and took a few steps away. Both of the Wilsons realized that Lydia was smiling at them. "You understood what my wife said, didn't you?"

"Of course she did," Claudia Wilson said. "She's from Germany, remember?" Annie looked at Lydia with amusement.

"Could you translate for me, please? I'm lucky I know the little bit of German I've picked up from you over the years," she said as she wiped away her tears.

"James' mother said, 'Get well soon; Mother loves you,'" Lydia replied.

"Perfect!" Mrs. Wilson said as she gave Lydia a hug. House wasn't sure how Lydia and Annie were managing to hold it together after the emotional display from Wilson's parents; he was having trouble dealing with what he was realizing about Wilson's situation. House didn't want it to manifest in its usual way: anger and snarkiness. No one needed to hear that, especially not himself.

"Bye, Babe. You get a good rest; maybe you'll be more like yourself then," Annie said stroking Wilson's cheek. She bent down and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. "James, come back to me," she pleaded as she turned to walk away. Lydia put her arms around Annie and gave her a hug.

"He'll be OK," Lydia reassured her. "Greg has more than a vested interest in getting him better. He'll make sure James gets the best care available. Come on; let's go settle down and then Greg can explain everything to us." Annie nodded and went over to the Wilsons. Mrs. Wilson put her arm around Annie, as Mr. Wilson took her free hand and led the group to the recovery room doors. Lydia watched as her friend left, then turned to House.

"On a scale of one to ten, how worried are you?" she asked. House looked up from Wilson and saw the fear in her eyes. It was equal to the fear in his heart.

"Infinity…and beyond." House answered grimly. "Go join the others; I'll be right in." Lydia nodded and headed out the doors. He went over to the nurse's station, picked up Wilson's chart, which had been left on top of the counter, and started to make some notes.

"I…I couldn't help overhearing some of the things Dr. Wilson was saying," Bonnie said as she returned from another patient's bedside. "That's not him." House finished writing and looked at the nurse.

"That's him when the wires on the sieve of his brain are broken." House walked over to Wilson's bed; if you went by only the numbers on the monitor, one would think that everything was going well. Unfortunately, House knew better.

"Sorry I have to do this, Wilson," House said as he gently placed Wilson's wrists in the restraints. "You already have fewer pieces to your anatomy than what you came into work with yesterday. I don't want any more to get messed up." He let out a long sigh as he tapped Wilson on the shoulder. House walked over to Bonnie, made her aware to re-set Wilson's morphine drip to where it had been, and headed out to the waiting room. As he was still in the hall, House saw Chase and Foreman emerge from the men's room.

"I always thought only women flocked together to the powder room; or are you revealing a latent tendency that I figured out a while ago?" If not for House's lousy appearance, and the news that just came from recovery via Annie, Lydia and Wilson's parents, the guys would have busted House's chops a bit. But they, too became concerned with Wilson upon hearing the report.

"House…what the hell is going on with Wilson?" Foreman asked. "Did he suffer a head injury? I wasn't looking for it, but…"

"I didn't see any evidence of trauma to his head, either," Chase said. "His behavior reminds me of that case we had a few years ago…"

"That guy needed surgery," House noted. "I'm hoping that's not true in Wilson's case. Let's go inside so I only have to repeat the gory details once." The group entered the waiting room; a hush fell over it as House went over to get himself a cup of coffee.

"How many of those have you had tonight?" Tom asked.

"Not enough," House said. Tom had noticed that House's hands were shaking slightly as he stirred the cup. Caffeine overload? Nervous about Wilson? Overtired? Concerned about his mother? Whether it was one or all of those choices, Tom was keeping a close eye on House. Lydia had been doing a good job of helping her boyfriend deal with all that was going on here and with his mother, but she looked like she was ready to drop as well.

"OK," House said sitting down in a chair and putting his feet on a table in front of him. "I'm going to go through this as completely and simplistically as I can. We have a mixture of people here, from those who'll know everything I'm talking about to those I'll have to repeat things to ten times." House looked directly at Wilson's parents and Annie. Lydia at least had enough knowledge to understand the basics, and House's team plus Slick and Tom would need no further explanations. "PTSD, Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder is something we hear a lot about in the here and now. It's actually been around for years, going back to World War One, when soldiers came home 'shell shocked,' and even beyond that. Thing is, you don't have to suffer an actual head injury, to suffer from PTSD. Whether it's a minor injury plus the horror of the incident you witnessed or seeing your buddy having his legs blown off…the damage is there. Wilson suffered multiple physical traumas: the loss of blood, the artery injury, the broken hip. On top of that, a vein had to be robbed from one part of his body and put in another to make a repair. Now add in that he had almost his total volume of blood replaced in a relatively short amount of time," House closed his eyes and sighed. "You have a perfect set-up for multiple problems."

"How many units did he receive?" asked Slick.

"Almost five full units of whole blood, and my two units of plasma."

"Damn!" Slick exclaimed in response. Tom let out a low whistle.

"I think I know where you're going with this," said Tom as he nodded. "But I'll let you tell the tale; better to have only one narrator."

"Thanks," House said sarcastically. "So, starting with the PTSD and Wilson's uncharacteristic anti-social behavior; the body responds to the stress in various ways, one of which is a swelling of the frontal cortex of the brain from lack of blood and nourishment for the tissue. That's the area that acts as a filter, along the lines of 'Honey, does this dress make me look fat?' to which your answer is 'No, of course not,' when your brain is thinking, 'No more so than usual.'" House's vocal inflections when giving them an example of how the brain works, drew laughs from everyone. It was a welcomed relief from the tension in the room.

"I'll keep that in mind the next time I ask you if I look OK," Lydia said pretending to be hurt.

"You always look OK. There are times when you look spectacular…like when you're naked," House said as he took a sip of coffee.

"Here sits a man who clearly works without a filter," quipped Henry Wilson.

"Can't waste mind power on being nice; there are much more important things in this world. Like Wilson." House brought his feet down from the table and hunched over them.

"So James' acting nasty before is because of the swelling in his brain?" Annie asked. "Is…is that permanent or can that be fixed?"

"It's that and the trauma of what he saw. He's saying now he can't remember it; but his sub-conscious will reveal it to him over time. He'll recall the mugger going after you, the gun being pointed at you," House said indicating Lydia. "He will never forget being shot, trust me on that one." House took another drink of his coffee; Tom noticed the shaking in his hands had gotten worse. "Hopefully, as long as there's no bleeding in the area, the swelling will go down on its own in about seventy-two hours, and Wilson will return to his too-nice-to-be-believed persona. If there's bleeding…" House closed his eyes at the thought

"Are you going to want a CT scan on him?" Thirteen asked.

"Normally, yeah; but his kidneys can't handle it as evidenced by the fact that his pee matches the color of that nicely browned bagel you're holding," replied House. "We'll have to go straight for an MRI with contrast, fill him up with two liters of saline before and after…see what we've got. I'm expecting some swelling; I'm hoping for not too much." Tom watched as House set his cup down.

"House, when was the last time you ate anything?" he asked as he walked over. "Because either you're wiped out from the plasma donation, or you're blood sugar is low. You're sweating and shaking like crazy."

"I ate yesterday, which was only a few hours ago, so you can't yell at me. I'm fine; let's get back to Wilson."

"What in the world is making his pee turn so brown?" Mrs. Wilson asked. "You just said his kidneys can't handle a test. Does he need dialysis?" House shook his head.

"No; that too will be temporary. But in the meantime, it does alter our approach to his care and diagnoses of his condition," said House as he twirled his cane between his fingers.

"The brownish color is from dying and hurt muscle tissue, isn't it?" Lydia asked. "And the little bit of red from shredded red blood cells?" House nodded with a slight smile on his face; that straight "A" average Lydia carries isn't just because she repeats things like a parrot. She knows how to apply the knowledge she's gained.

"Why are the blood cells shredded?" Annie asked.

"Because of the volume of blood he had to be given. Even when it's the correct blood type," House said glancing at Lydia. "The body doesn't always perfectly accept the introduction of the foreign blood. It's temporary, as hopefully all these abbey-normal things are." House heard a little laugh and turned his head; he saw Lydia smiling at him with a playful look in her eyes. "Young Frankenstein" had been the first movie they watched together after a delicious dinner and before a wonderfully emotional and sexy night. Any joke either made that referenced the movie, always brought a smile to the other one's face.

"So you're hoping that all of these…glitches…to James' recovery will pass and he'll be alright?" Henry Wilson asked.

"Yeah," answered House as he stared down at the floor. "A lot of what's going on is a combination of the physical traumas he suffered and the emotion traumas. I'm not a fan of skull punchers in any shape, way or form; the decision on whether Wilson wants to seek help in that area is up to him. But personally, I'd prescribe a good pizza, a couple of six packs of quality beer and a night of video games. If after that, he wants to talk…I'll listen."

"House, you may not be the right person to handle Wilson's issues with this event," Foreman said. "You've got a lot of…personal issues with it as well. You saw him covered in blood, he coded right in front of you; you found out that Annie had been threatened, Lydia had a gun put to her head…that's a lot for one person to handle."

"You forgot the part about my mother slowly counting down her days; my other patient, Fire Marshall Bill, who we don't have the slightest clue of what's going on with him. And then there's me and my leg that everyone would just love for me to make a snap decision about, despite the fact that it's not their leg!" House had been standing, pacing back and forth as he got more and more agitated; now, he stumbled and fell into the chair where Lydia was sitting. Fortunately, Lydia reacted fast enough to put her hands up above her head so House wouldn't land on them. After that display, no one in the room was going to let him talk his way out of getting some attention.

"House, sit down and let's get a blood sugar on you," Slick said. "At least that can be a starting point. I'm going to see if they have a glucometer in recovery," he said to Tom as he hurried past him.

"Good idea," Tom said getting House settled into the seat.

"I don't have hypo- or hyperglycemia," House said in an annoyed voice. "I just have too many people who want a piece of me right now." Slick came back in with a small plastic case in his hand.

"Got it." Slick prepped the machine and set up the lancet to poke House's finger, "OK; which one are we going for?" he asked as he ripped open the pack holding the alcohol swab.

"This one," House said extending the middle finger of his right hand. Lydia gave him a disapproving look.

"Greg! That's not nice; they're trying to help you."

"It's OK, Lydia; I was expecting it," Slick said. He swabbed House's finger, clicked the lancet, and got the drop of blood onto the testing strip.

"Fifty-seven," Slick announced a second after the machine beeped to signal it was done.

"Is that not good?" Mrs. Wilson asked.

"Not if you'd like to be mentally alert and physically coordinated," Taub noted. House hated the attention being piled on him; he decided the best thing he could was to give in…his way. He very gingerly stood up.

"I am going to the little boys' room and do a big boy thing," House announced. "While I'm gone, someone go through that pile of sandwiches, find me a ham and Swiss on anything; take the greenery off. I'll take a bottle of Coke and a bag of chips; Fraulein knows what type I like. When I return…I'll sit down and eat…under protest." House turned and headed out of the room. He was almost to the men's room door, when he heard someone call his name.

"Greg!" Annie came hurrying down the hall to him.

"You know, I wasn't lying; I really do have to pee." Annie laughed and put her head down.

"I'm sorry, I…I just…" House could see she was having a hard time finding the right words. He thought that he might as well help her out with his own thoughts on the matter, without letting her know they're his.

"You're scared. You're scared you're going to lose the James Wilson that means the world to you. You're afraid that you'll never have him back to play pinball or air hockey with…or share a goofy joke." House let out a sigh. "Do you really think I would let anything happen to the James and…the Wilson that we've each come to know? Are you doubting my abilities?" House asked, changing his tone to teasing and playful. Annie laughed, then became very serious again.

"Even you can't save everyone Greg; as much as you want to, as much as you think you should." House looked away, down the hall to the recovery doors. "I don't want to lose him. I'll do whatever it takes to keep him alive." House closed his eyes; an image from long ago popped into his head. He could imagine Stacy and Cuddy outside his hospital room, Stacy making the same desperate plea for his life. House knew he wouldn't let this end the same way.

"I got you out of the hell you were stuck in; I'll do the same for Wilson," House said quietly. Annie put her arms around him and held on tightly as she started to cry.

"I'm so happy that Lydia has you. You…you may have a rough way of dealing with things sometimes, but your heart is always in the right place." Annie gave House another hug; he knew that she was quite sincere in what she said. Somehow, that made him all the more uncomfortable.

"Hey, no getting my scrubs wet. Depending on where the tears fall, they're going to think I had an accident. Go back inside; make sure they're not messing with my sandwich order. Your pal is always trying to sneak a veggie of some sort into my meals; I need comfort food right now and that ain't it." Annie smiled and turned back to the waiting room; House went into the men's room to attend to his needs. When he returned to the waiting room, he saw a plate with a delicious looking sandwich and some macaroni salad. His requested bag of chips and soda sat next to it. He sat down, picked up the sandwich and inspected the contents.

"You didn't trust me?" Annie asked.

"Just making sure she didn't pull rank on you," House said as he took a bite. "Girlfriend outranks best friend's girlfriend."

"And despite my lofty position, I still can't get you to eat your veggies," Lydia said shaking her head. "Some things just aren't worth the effort."

"Nope," said House as he opened the bag of chips.

"Greg, do you mind if we ask you a few questions?" Henry Wilson asked. "I'm sure it's just us being dense about things…but we need to…try and understand what's going on with James."

"Fire when ready," House said putting his feet back up on the table in front of him and starting to eat.

"Now, this…unusual behavior is due to swelling in the front of his brain; but it's not because he was injured there. His brain didn't get enough blood to feed the tissue?"

"Doing great so far," said House taking a drink of his Coke. "It's also due to the trauma Wilson's entire body went through; it's how the brain responds."

"And you think that this will go away in seventy-two hours?" Claudia Wilson asked. House looked away from the Wilsons.

"Why do I think you're more concerned about the fact that Sonny Boy didn't welcome you with open arms than you are about his survival chances?" House said getting really annoyed with the Wilsons. "The fact is, I can't even do a basic test on him to check on how badly the brain is effected because his kidneys are too stressed out to handle it. And you want to know when he's going to start saying 'Mother, may I' again?"

"We want to know what James is facing, what he's trying to deal with," Mrs. Wilson said. "It seemed like he knew that he was saying things that he didn't mean and it upset him."

"Yeah, because he knows he's getting caught saying what's on his mind, instead of holding back and then finally letting it out by breaking an antique mirror among other things," House noted.

"What do you mean? James never broke a mirror. He knows I believe in the adage of seven years bad luck," Mrs. Wilson said.

"Actually it's been more like twenty years," Foreman quipped. House shot him a look; he was too tired to start a war of words.

"You don't know how James and Greg met, do you?" Lydia asked.

"They met at a medical convention," Mr. Wilson said. Annie started laughing.

"They met at a medical convention where James was served with papers for his first divorce. He got ticked off because _someone_ kept playing 'Leave a Tender Moment Alone' over and over again on the jukebox. James got really mad and broke an antique mirror; Greg bailed him out of jail."

"He never told us he was arrested," Mr. Wilson said indignantly.

"OOPS! Looks like Jimmy Jack isn't perfect," House said dryly.

"Can we get back to talking about James' condition?" Mrs. Wilson said wearily. "How long will the physical part of the healing take? Will he have to go to live at a rehabilitation center?"

"Tom is one hell of a therapist," House said nodding in his direction. "Hate to admit it, but he's even gotten me to sweat and choke down the right pills; mainly because he gets quick and noticeable results. And Songbird's place is at ground level, so Wilson will be able to start off there, eventually work his way back to his place."

"The thing is, Wilson's speed of recovery will be up to him. He knows my story, he knows the hell I went through with my legs; I'm not going to put down the pain he's going to feel as meaningless," Tom said approaching the Wilsons. He sat down across from them. "I know he's going to hurt as he works to strengthen muscles he didn't know he had. No pain, no gain may have been a catch phrase for the fitness boom of the eighties, but it's also the truth when it's the right kind of pain."

"Can we help in any way?" Henry Wilson asked.

"Yes; don't baby him. I'll make sure Annie knows what he can and can't do. She'll pass the word along to you, and you can go from there."

"And his kidneys will be alright in seventy-two hours?" Claudia Wilson asked. House sighed.

"All times given are approximate and management is not responsible for any changes in the schedule. It could be in forty-eight hours, it could be eighty-four hours. No way to be any more precise."

"What will you do if that test shows that his brain is bleeding?" Henry Wilson asked. House closed his eyes.

"Go out and buy my own pack of cigarettes." He stood and threw his now empty plate in the trash; House grabbed his soda bottle and sat down on one of the couches in the room. "Wilson won't be awake again for a while. I'm going to get some shut eye." House swung his feet onto the couch and tried to prop the pillow into a comfortable position, but with no luck.

"Let me go into recovery and see if they can spare a few blankets and pillows," Thirteen said after watching House struggle for a minute.

"There are plenty of free beds in recovery," House noted. "Looks like everyone made the eleven a.m. check out time." He squirmed around on the couch trying to find just the right spot, but to no avail.

"I was going to be on the overnight with our patient anyway," Thirteen said. "If you guys want to go home and get some rest…" Chase, Foreman and Taub all looked at each other and shrugged.

"I already texted Rachel that I would be staying here tonight," said Taub.

"And for once you actually will be working late," House commented as he sat up and started to tap his cane on the floor. House's body was tired, his mind couldn't rest.

"Um, House?" Thirteen had stopped as she was about to head to get the bedding. "We finally have some results from the lab on our patient with the bum leg. They've run the swab of the wound area three times. It is bacteria, gram positive, staphylococcus."

"Well that's a better starting point than us just shooting around in the dark." House twirled his cane through his fingers; as he did, he realized everyone was staring at him. "Sorry, poor choice of words. We still have to find out what kind of calls he went out on in the past month. In the meantime, start him on IV cephalosporine, third generation." Thirteen nodded.

"I can tell you what kind of calls his house went out on all month," Slick said as he fiddled with his phone. "Narrowing it down to what calls happened on his shifts, you'll have to check with the house commander."

"I've gotten the name of his shift supervisor where he works, and at the fire house he volunteers at," Lydia said. "Could you e-mail me the list of calls?"

"Sure; I think I have your e-mail in here…" Slick said as he looked at his smart phone.

"It's 'KuteKraut ..." House began to say before Lydia quickly interrupted him.

"It is not. That's an email account you set up without my knowledge so you could send me…private messages," Lydia said.

"Awww, I think that's a cute name for an e-mail account for you," Annie said.

"No, it's not 'cute.' You've heard of 'Fifty Shades of Gray?' This is 'Fifty Shades of Greg,'" said Lydia shaking her head.

"You have no problem sending me back appropriate responses," House said as he leaned his chin on the handle of his cane. Everyone got a laugh from the look on Lydia's face.

"OK, guys…sleeping arrangements…" Foreman started to say.

"Don't worry about me," Slick said. "I haven't slept in over twenty-four hours. I'm heading for home and I'm passing out. What time do you think you'll be moving Wilson to I.C.U.?"

"Probably around noon. He should be back amongst the living by then and hurling insults far and wide," House said as he attempted to lay down again, this time with his legs draped over Lydia.

"I'm going to head home, too," Tom said. "I've got some patients coming to the office in the morning; then I was scheduled to come here in the afternoon anyway, so the timing should work out well."

"Do me a favor? Tell the kids not to start calling me at six in the morning to ask how everyone is. I'll call them around…eight, tell them. Marianne will be coming here with them at noon…" Lydia took a deep breath. "I'll find something to keep them occupied."

"Well, let me get on the road," Tom said as he started to exchange goodbyes will everyone. When he got to the Wilsons, Tom made sure to offer words of encouragement. "I'll get him up and moving in no time."

"Just in time to transfer ownership of his wheelchair to you," House said. He had his hand over his eyes to block out the harsh lights in the room. Lydia gave him a tap on his legs.

"Greg, please move your legs so I can stand up?" There was no response. "Greg? Don't make me do something you'll regret." House sighed and gave her a look.

"Just when I thought I finally found someone who understands me and my way of approaching life." He lifted his legs up just far enough for Lydia to scoot off the couch.

"Oh, I understand you," Lydia said. "I understand you all too well."

"Here are some pillows and blankets," Thirteen said as she re-entered the room followed by Slick. The two had slipped out to recovery and scored some sleeping material.

"Great. The three of us can snag the cots in the doctors' lounge," Foreman said indicating Chase, Taub and himself. "Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, there are two couches and large chair with an ottoman in the office I share with Wilson. I think you two and Annie will be the most comfortable there. Assuming, of course you want to stay here at the hospital for now."

"Of course, we do," Mrs. Wilson said. "Actually we were going to ask where the closest hotel was; we haven't had the chance to look anything up."

"You're not staying in a hotel," Annie said. "James…isn't using his place at the moment. And I'll be spending most of my time here, so you could stay at my place if you want. Both are equidistant from the hospital."

"We…we wouldn't want to impose…" Mrs. Wilson began.

"Don't you dare even think that way," Annie scolded. "I know you want to be here tonight, but you just let me know when you're ready to sleep in a real bed." Claudia Wilson stood up and came to Annie.

"I hope you can forgive me for what I said earlier in the evening…about whose fault anything was and all that nonsense. You are a lovely woman…and I'm so grateful for how happy you've made James. He's made some poor choices in the past, but not this time." She pulled Annie toward her and the two women stood for a moment in an embrace. "Now," Claudia said as she pulled back from Annie and wiped her eyes. "Where do we go?"

"I'll take you there," Annie said. She started to say good night to everyone, thanking Chase, Foreman and Taub for their work to save Wilson. "I don't know how I can ever thank you enough," she said tearing up.

"Convince your boyfriend to stop bouncing his leg up and down while he's working on something with me. It drives me out of my mind," Foreman complained.

"I'll see what I can do," Annie said laughing. She turned to House; she wrapped her arms around him, but said nothing. She didn't need to; they each knew what the other was thinking. "When he wakes up again, tell him I love him."

"I think he already knows that, but I'll pass the message along," House said. "In case he forgot." Annie gave him a look and went to hug Lydia; that's when the tears really began to flow.

"Shh! Stop; he's going to be OK," Lydia said. "He's got the best doctors in the world taking care of him," she said looking around the room. "Go get some sleep."

"I will; you, too." The Wilsons came next exchanging the same thanks with all concerned with their son's care. Then they came to House.

"You are a difficult man to understand," Henry Wilson began. "But it is very easy to see your care and concern for James. For that, I'm very grateful." Mr. Wilson moved away and Mrs. Wilson came over to House, and put her arms on his shoulders.

"You're mishugena up here," she said pointing to his head. "But not here," she said pointing to his heart. She gave House a kiss on the cheek and turned to walk away. House was clearly flustered.

"If there's any activity from in there," House said pointing to recovery. "I'll call you on your cell," he said to Claudia Wilson. "Songbird doesn't have hers and the office phone will just be a pain in the butt to deal with." She smiled.

"Thank you."

"I'm heading out folks," Tom said as he gave Lydia a quick kiss. "I started to do this about ten minutes ago…somehow I didn't get there."

"Go," Lydia said. "Give Marianne and the kids a kiss for me…tell them I love them."

"I will," Tom said and he left to go get some sleep.

"You OK with these things?" Slick asked Thirteen indicating the pile of blankets and pillows.

"Yeah, I think I can handle it," she laughed.

"Cool, see you tomorrow. Oh, Lydia, I sent you that call list for your patient. Night, everyone." Slick left for his home and some rest.

"I'm going to crash on the sofa in Wilson's office up on the fourth floor," Thirteen said. "It's not like I haven't done it before."

"How have you been feeling with those migraines?" Chase asked. "You haven't mentioned them, and I haven't caught you holding your head in pain." Thirteen shrugged.

"I've had a few instances. I slept here one night last week and I thought I was going to have one right after we took care of Wilson in the E.R., but…I'm OK. Just a regular headache right now."

"Probably lack of sleep," House said. "I'll send out the Bat Signal when Wilson wakes up. Once he's settled in I.C.U., we'll start the two liters of saline. Should be able to have an answer to the condition of his frontal cortex sometime after that."

"I've got to send out a couple of texts and cancel some meetings for tomorrow," Foreman said. "I won't be able to concentrate on much other than…" He indicated recovery. "Well, we better go see what's open as far as the cots."

"There are loungers in the room if we need them," Taub pointed out.

"Hell, I'll drag a Gerri Chair in there if I have to," Chase said laughing. The air was suddenly pierced by the same type of whistle House had used to silence the room earlier. His team and Lydia all turned to look at him.

"You…you all did good work…in the E.R. and the O.R. Thanks." His team could appreciate how difficult it was for House to express his gratitude to them for helping to save Wilson's life; the fact that he said anything at all was amazing.

"House, you know…you're going to have to learn to share," Thirteen said. "It's not at the same level, but Wilson is our friend, too." House just nodded as he stared down at the floor.

"Thank you," Lydia said as she went to each team member and gave them a hug. "I don't want to think about how things would be if anything had happened to James."

"Oh, the people from Cherry Valley Deli will be stopping in to clean everything up," Foreman said. "They're going to bring a small breakfast spread…bagels, muffins, juice. After that, I figure Wilson will be moved up to I.C.U. and everyone will be eating at various times."

"Why?" House's team looked at each other.

"Excuse me?" Chase asked.

"Fraulein told me you footed the bill for the smorgasbord that's been rotating around here. Why?" House picked his head up and looked at his team. They were exchanging looks, trying to silently figure who would answer the question.

"It just seemed like a nice thing to do," Thirteen said. "We knew there would be a crowd of people, maybe even the kids stopping by, which they did…it was just something we wanted to do."

"You could've just charged it to our department; I wouldn't have given a rat's ass," House said.

"No…no. You haven't sat in an office with Wilson and listened to him bitch about departments going over their budgets for frivolous purchases. Radiology bought Starbucks for their coffee maker instead of the stuff from the food services…you should have heard him!" Even House managed a slight smile at Foreman's tale of Wilson's penny pinching.

"Wilson's had a bug up his butt about Starbucks ever since he was hitting on one of the baristas a few months back, before he met Songbird. She let him know she wasn't interested by giving him a triple shot of Espresso in his coffee. He moved like a Mexican jumping bean for the rest of the day. Wilson was supposed to come over for pizza and video games that night; I had to go to his place armed with Benadryl and whiskey to get him to level off."

"I didn't know James liked whiskey; I've never seen him drink it," Lydia said.

"He did that night; I gave him no choice," House replied. "I sent him a file of pictures to remember the evening by. He's never stepped foot in Starbucks since." Lydia shook her head.

"I can only imagine what you did to that poor man."

"Oh…no you can't," House said leaning back with his eyes closed and a wicked smile.

"So you two are going to sleep here?" Thirteen asked. Lydia nodded. "Let me give you some of these." She handed Lydia two pillows and blankets.

"Does that leave enough for all of you?"

"Yep. We'll be fine," Thirteen said. Lydia made eye contact with her, and with a slight nod of her head, indicated that she wanted to talk. Thirteen picked up on it, and gave a slight nod in return. "Night, House…try to get some rest." She looked over when there was no response.

"I think he's asleep already," Lydia whispered. The five of them walked out into the hallway and moved past recovery until they were sure they were out of earshot of the waiting room.

"Lydia, is he OK?" Thirteen asked. "I watched him munch all night. There's no way he should have had a low blood sugar."

"You can if you upchucked all the munching you did," Lydia said. After extracting a promise from each of them not to say a word to anyone, Lydia told them what House learned about John House and his mother.

"Damn! First he finds out what really happened with his leg and now this?" Foreman asked. "I am so glad he has you to help him deal with this."

"That's because if he didn't have her, you know we'd be dealing with him," Taub noted.

"He's trying so hard to hold it together," Lydia said. "But I'm worried."

"You know if there's anything you need or anything we can do, just say the word," said Chase.

"Thanks," Lydia said rubbing her eyes. "I appreciate it. See you in a few hours." House's team left for their various sleeping quarters while Lydia returned to the waiting room. House was in the same position, leaning back, his arms spread over the back of the couch. Lydia was used to repositioning him; many times, he fell asleep before her and she had to readjust him to reclaim her side of the bed. Lydia now put his arms down in his lap, turned and lowered his torso and head onto the pillows, and swung his legs up onto the couch. She unfolded a blanket and placed it across his body. The couches were nice and deep; there was enough room for her to lay on her side and semi-spoon with him. House let out a groan, moved his position slightly, and wound up dropping his arm over Lydia. She didn't mind; after everything that had happened that night, it felt good to have House holding her, even if it was in his sleep. It wasn't long before Lydia fell into a slumber…

The sound was muffled, but it made both House and Lydia jump. It took a second for her to realize that it was House's cell phone. He knew what it was a second faster than her and was already squinting his eyes trying to read it.

"In-house," he said as he answered it. "Yeah?"

"Dr. House? It's Bonnie, the nurse from recovery." House looked at the time on the wall clock; six-fifteen a.m.

"What's up?" House asked as he pushed Lydia out of the way and sat up.

"I want to know what's going on!" House recognized the agitated voice in the background as Wilson's.

"Dr. House, he woke up as we were emptying his Foley bag, and started to freak out. Please…he's undone the restraints somehow…you've got to get in here!"


	9. Chapter 9

"Life and Limb"

Chapter Nine – "The Game of Life"

By: Purpleu

House made it to the doors of recovery first, with Lydia right on his heels. He hadn't bothered to grab his cane, but Lydia saw that it had fallen to the floor when House jumped up; she retrieved it, and brought it along with her. They could hear the nurses begging Wilson to calm down, that everything was OK, he was in PPTH and House was taking care of him. But no words of comfort that any of them provided could calm Wilson down. The nurses and aides moved aside as they realized that House and Lydia had come over to the bed. When they moved, and Wilson could be seen in full view, it was a pathetic sight: he looked like a scared little boy, sweat running down his face and mixing with his tears.

"H…House." It seemed to Lydia that Wilson was shivering, too. "Help me. Why…why am I here? Was I…being held prisoner?" he asked indicating his now freed wrists. If it wasn't so heartbreaking, Lydia would have laughed. Wilson was obviously startled out of his medicated sleep and very confused.

"The only prisoner you are is a prisoner of love, held captive by one Annie Harris, AKA Songbird and Medusa." Wilson's request of "Help me," hit House right in the gut. No matter how many years passed, whether it was Lydia asking him to reach something off the shelf, or one of the kids wanting help with homework, or Annie seeing if he could accompany her on piano so she could rehearse something…"Help me," would always sting at House's psyche.

"Where is she? Where's Annie? He killed her, didn't he?" Wilson threw his head back on the bed. "He killed her…" Wilson's voice trailed off as he started to cry. Lydia gave a quick glance to House who was clearly uncomfortable; she thought she might as well see what she could do to help.

"James…James, look at me. Look at me." Wilson turned his head to the left and slowly smiled through his tears when he saw her there. "You know who I am." Wilson nodded.

"Of course…Lydia," he said quietly.

"Right," she said. "Now if anything had happened to Annie, would I be standing here, calmly talking to you and smiling?" Wilson shook his head. "Of course not. Annie is fine. She's laying down up in the office that you and Eric share. She's trying to get a little rest. That's what you should be doing," Lydia said in a soothing voice. She reached over, took a tissue and began to wipe his face. "Could someone get a wash cloth and a basin of cool water?" Lydia asked. One of the aides turned, and left to get the requested items. "Now, relax and take it easy. Annie would be sleeping here with you in the recovery room if they'd let her." House had gone over to the nurses' station while Lydia was talking to Wilson to look at his chart.

"What prompted the death scene from 'Camille?'" House asked looking over his shoulder at Wilson.

"I don't know what set him off," Bonnie said. "The aide went over to empty and measure the contents of his Foley bag…and he started yelling. I was afraid with the way he was moving and thrashing about, and the fact that he undid the restraints, that he was going to start pulling tubes out."

"I didn't tighten those restraints the way they're usually placed," House said. "Didn't think he'd wake up like The Creature." The nurse didn't fully understand House's comment, but for the briefest moment, it brought a slight smile to his face as he looked at Lydia calming Wilson down. "I'm going to order a call to pain management; let's aim to move him up to I.C.U. around ten rather than twelve. Have them meet him up there." House glanced at Bonnie; he saw she was smiling and shaking her head. "What's so funny?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh, but we had a patient in here last week…he was hysterical. They put him on the self-administered morphine while he was still here," she said. "He tried so hard to get the machine to give him more medication; he was holding up the push button like a signaling device from 'Jeopardy!' and just kept…" Bonnie made the frantic thumb movement so often seen by contestants on the game show. "We kept picking categories for him; 'Outer Planets' for two hundred, 'Artic Biology' for six hundred…" The nurse was really laughing heartily at that point. "I know that sounds terrible, but sometimes you just have to have some gallows humor around you to get you through the job." House nodded.

"Too bad more of your compatriots don't recognize that," House said as he finished his notes on Wilson's chart. "If they did, I'd put up with a lot less grief around here." He turned the binder around and handed it to Bonnie. "I suppose you're going to want to read my latest novel." She took the book and read over the orders; she noticed he was still printing in capital letters.

"Still don't trust us?" she asked. House looked away from her and over to Lydia and Wilson.

"I trust very few people with anything," he said as he hobbled over to the bed. House picked up his cane from the foot or the bed where Lydia had rested it. "So you calmed down yet?" he asked Wilson.

"Yes," Wilson said opening his eyes. "I…I don't know what I was thinking before…" Lydia had been given the basin of water, wash cloth, and the usual toiletry selections that a patient gets including a comb. She washed down Wilson's face and neck, and combed his hair as best she could. House could see that Wilson was doing better by the improved numbers on his monitor.

"You're not thinking, at least not at your usual level," House said. "Since you seem to be more with it than you were earlier, let me give you the lowdown on what's going on with you. You're alert and competent enough to make your own decisions about things. I'm relinquishing my duties as your healthcare proxy for now."

"Yeah, well…look what you did to me when you did invoke the privilege; you ignored my wishes for a DNR," Wilson said bitterly. House and Lydia looked at each other; Wilson was right. Rayner, the vascular surgeon even tried to call House out on it, until Lydia intervened with a lie. But Wilson questioning it to the wrong person, could be a real problem.

"Who told you that Greg ignored the DNR?" Lydia asked. Wilson gave her a look.

"Annie. She stood right…there…and said my heart stopped. I must have coded, which means you must have used the paddles on me. Which means…you ignored my DNR." Wilson had talked quickly at first, but then as he realized what he was saying, he knew House did the right thing.

"As best as you could you conveyed the fact that you wanted help. What was the point of asking me to take care of Annie if you weren't around to enjoy the benfits of her company? Besides, we wouldn't be having this conversation if we hadn't used the zappers on you," House said. "I'm sure you'd rather take advantage of your newly found loose lips." Wilson put his head down.

"House…please…fill me in. Other than I can't feel my legs, I'm…confused about what's going on with me. I… I think I know what happened, but…"

"Let me get rid of the fluff and go straight for the peanut butter," House said as he shifted his weight uncomfortably. All of the physical movements plus the plasma donation and lack of sleep were still eating away at House's ability to hang tough. He was determined not to let Wilson see him hurt. "You do remember being mugged?"

"Yeah, the…guy pointed a gun at Annie and me. He said to put our things into a bag that he was holding. Then…I remember Annie pissed him off…"

"James, I'm sorry." House and Lydia turned around to see Annie walking toward them.

"Sweetie, what are you doing down here?" Lydia said as Annie came and stood next to her. "You should be getting some rest."

"Yeah, I was," Annie said as she yawned. "But I hate to say it Hon; your father really snores."

"He's done that for years," Wilson said shaking his head. "Why don't you lay down in the waiting room? You know how raggy you look when you don't get enough sleep." Wilson knew right away what he said was wrong; if he didn't know it instinctively, he could see it by the look in Annie's eyes. "House…what is going on with me?"

"You lost a tremendous amount of blood," House began. "In total from the time you came into the E.R. through the end of your operation, you had five units of red blood cells and two units of my plasma." Wilson's eyes open wide with shock and fear. He was cognisant enough to know the consequences of that kind of blood loss.

"Frontal Cortex damage." The words stuck in Wilson's throat as he thought about what that meant.

"Yeah, but I'm hoping it's temporary." House said looking away to his right at the monitors that were following Wilson. He wanted to make sure the conversation wasn't too upsetting to him. "I'm placing my bet on the fact that it's swelling; a combination of lack of blood and shock to the body, and not bleeding. I've moved up the time you're going to I.C.U. to ten a.m.; once you're settled in there, you'll be prepped for an MRI."

"An MRI? Why not a CT?" House walked to the front right side of Wilson's bed and held up the Foley bag so Wilson could see the brownish urine. "My God…what…?" House saw Wilson heart rate and BP go up and he knew he had to say something moderately distracting.

"Come on, Wilson; first year med school. What's one of the ways the body responds to damaged tissue?"

"I know…I know," Wilson said leaning his head back against his pillow. "And the slight red color is shredded red blood cells because of the high volume of blood I received. And it probably doesn't help that I have plasma from you floating around in my body. If I was wasn't a snarky S.O.B. before this, I sure as hell will be now." Wilson dropped his chin down onto his chest. "It's because of the swelling in the Frontal Cortex, right?" He looked at House, hoping for confirmation.

"You didn't turn into me in a matter of hours," House said. "Like I said, I'm hoping it's just swelling and not bleeding. You're with it enough to sign the consent form, probably even more so by the time you get to the I.C.U. We'll run the test, get an answer, go from there." Wilson nodded, then looked over at Annie, who was standing back and listening to what House had to say.

"Babe? Come here…please?" Annie smiled as she approached the bed. Wilson had sounded so sweet asking her to come over, but she knew to be ready for anything Wilson said. "I'm…I'm going to sound like a real ass the next few days. And…I can't even fall back on the excuse that…I'm saying things I don't mean." Wilson took Annie's hand. "But that doesn't mean every…unfiltered thing I say has to be bad, or hurtful…or whatever."

"I know. I don't want you to worry about that now. I want you to concentrate on getting better; doing your therapy with Tom…" Wilson looked confused.

"Why…why am I going to be doing therapy with Tom? What…" Wilson began to pull at the sheets that covered his legs.

"James, be careful; you're going to pull out your IV or your drains," Lydia said trying to stop him.

"I want to know what happened…" said Wilson as he tried in vain to move his legs.

"You femoral artery was ripped to shreds and the head of your femur was shattered. You were shot at point blank range three times; you're lucky to be alive," House said in rapid succession. "You have a titanium/polymer replacement hip. And you're going to learn to walk, run, skip, jump, and hop with it, like everyone who gets a new piece of equipment learns to do." House gave Wilson a hard stare; he knew it was far too easy to start feeling sorry for yourself. A little self-pity could be allowed, but House wouldn't let his friend sink to level that he did over the years with his leg.

"I…I have an artificial hip?" Wilson whispered in disbelief. Annie squeezed his hand lightly; she feared his reaction to the news and now tried to steel herself for the aftermath.

"Yeah, and your vascular system has been re-arranged. Saphenous vein from your left calf was used to repair the femoral. He took it with a keyhole opening, and Taub helped close you up after the hip placement. Unfortunately, Rayner didn't offer the same to end his handiwork, so that scar will be noticeable; what Ellis did, won't." House saw that the monitor numbers were rising. "Hey, look at it this way: you'll still look like a pasty white amoeba in your bathing suit, so nothing's really changed."

"James," Annie began. "I know it's hard finding all of this out in such a short amount of time, but you know you have me, and Greg and Lydia and all your other friends around you to help. I can even do some of your exercises with you to make sure you're doing them right," she said in a teasing voice. Annie leaned in and gave Wilson a lingering kiss that started his monitor alarm ringing.

"Is everything OK?" Bonnie asked as she hurried over.

"Yeah, Wilson's girlfriend is giving him mouth to mouth resuscitation and he's really happy about it," House said reaching up to shut off the alarm. Bonnie laughed and turned to Annie.

"Hi, I'm…" Bonnie realized that telling them her name was something House suggested she avoid. Too late now. "…Bonnie. I've been one of the nurses taking care of Dr. Wilson." Annie shook her hand.

"Yeah, Bonnie's been taking care of ALL of Wilson's needs," said House with a smirk on his face.

"House…please. Would you please not do that? You're just making everyone uncomfortable. Besides," Wilson said as he looked at the nurse, "She's too old for me." It took Wilson just a second to realize that what he said was far worse than House's busting chops. "I…I am _so_ sorry…"

"Don't worry about it, Dr. Wilson," Bonnie said laughing. "Dr. House clued us in that you wouldn't be yourself for a little bit. And you're right, I am too old for you; I became a grandma a few months ago."

"Congratulations!" Lydia said. "Boy or girl?"

"A girl…Amber Rose." The happy expression on Wilson's face clouded over at the mention of the baby's name.

"Amber…that's…a beautiful name. I had a girlfriend named Amber. She was killed in an accident…that never should have happened," Wilson said looking straight at House. It was something he thought was buried in the past between him and Wilson; under the circumstances, it was not.

"Oh…Oh, I'm so very sorry," Bonnie said. This time it was Wilson's turn to make people feel uncomfortable. He quickly knew he was treading on dangerous territory, and changed the subject.

"It was a long time ago," he said with a wave of his hand. "I have this beautiful lady now." Wilson looked at Annie and smiled, but he saw the tears in her eyes. _Damn it,_ he thought, _how much longer am I going_ _to be acting like a self-centered jerk like House, not caring who I hurt with what I say? _

"I'll be around if you need anything." With that, Bonnie went to check on another patient.

"You want something other than water to drink?" Wilson realized that House was talking to him; he had avoided eye contact for the past few minutes.

"Yeah…please…I'm starving. I know I can't eat any solids yet, but…even some juice would be great."

"I'll go see what they have," Annie said. "I know you'd prefer apple, but if not, is cranberry OK?"

"Anything. Now is not the time to be fussy," Wilson said.

"As opposed to the way you usually are?" Annie said with a smile. She thought that maybe taking the tactic of engaging in some playful banter with her boyfriend might be the way to handle the situation. Wilson was about to respond, when he took a good look at his girlfriend.

"Now who's talking without a filter?" he said laughing. "I'm not too fussy, you're too easy to please." Annie walked back over to the side of Wilson's bed.

"And I've never heard you complain about it." She gave him a kiss and went off in search of juice. Wilson laid his head back against the pillow.

"She didn't set off your alarms this time; must have held back on using the tongue," House commented as he looked at Wilson's numbers.

"She did." Wilson put his hand up to his forehead. "House, do me a favor…put the tube back down my throat. Or I'm not going to have a relationship or any friendships left when all of this is over."

"James, Annie understands what's going on. It frightens her because she's never dealt with anything like this before whereas I have," Lydia said. Wilson cocked his head to the side and looked at her curiously.

"When…Oh, when your parents had the car accident. Did they both have head trauma?"

"Mainly my mother; my father to a lesser extent. But considering that she lived five years longer than my father, it was five more years of being told all sorts of nasty things," Lydia said sadly. "I wish it had been temporary. There were some things my mother said that could have opened up lines of communication for us; it could have been a good thing." Lydia saw that Annie was returning with a triumphant smile and several drink containers.

"They didn't have anything here," Annie said putting the drinks on the bed tray. "But, as I came in before, Cherry Valley was setting up breakfast selections for us, so I grabbed some drinks from there. I have three apple and one cranapple."

"Cherry Valley?" Wilson questioned. The name of one of their favorite food sources made him salivate like Pavlov's dog. Sadly, he knew it was too soon for him to eat.

"Eric arranged for food to be delivered to the waiting area by surgery and down here after you were moved," Annie said.

"Who…" Wilson started to say.

"It didn't come out of anyone's budget, so don't worry," said Lydia putting her hand on Wilson's arm. "Greg's team paid for it out of their own pockets." Wilson's mouth fell open.

"They did what? W…why?"

"I asked the same question," House said as he gulped down the container of juice sitting closest to him. "Turns out they wanted to be nice to your fan club."

"What fan club?"

"Your mom and dad are up in your first floor office, Thirteen is on the couch in your Oncology office, Chris, Robert and Eric are in the doctors' lounge," said Lydia, making sure she was covering everyone. "Slick hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours by the time you got down here, so he went home; and Tom had some patients to see in his office this morning, so he went home once you were settled in. The kids had stopped by too, but I finally convinced them that you wouldn't be awake for a while. They're not going to school today; there was no way they were going to be able to get up this morning." Wilson shook his head.

"I'm…I'm shocked. Everyone just came running when they heard what happened? Even the kids?"

"They drove Marianne crazy; they insisted on coming over. The initial news reports said that I was shot, too. They spoke to me on the phone, and I told them that wasn't true but they wanted to check everyone out."

"I really appreciate everything that people did," Wilson said, still amazed at the concern and kindness shown him. "Although…I wish you didn't call my parents," he said to Annie.

"Sweetie, you know if I didn't call them, they'd be very upset with me…and you," she replied. "You know it was for the best."

"Hey, Songbird; had they set up the coffee yet?" House asked.

"They were plugging it in when I came in before, so it should be done by now. Do you want me to get you a cup?" Annie offered.

"No, I need to move around a little," House said stretching. "Two eggs over easy, ham steak, home fries and toast?" he asked Wilson.

"You son-of-a-bitch. You…you think that's funny, don't you?"

"Absolutely hilarious," House said as he made his way out of the room. Wilson shook his head.

"Here you go, Hon," Annie said offering the apple juice to Wilson. "Do you want me to hold the container for you?"

"Yes, please; I don't think with all these things hooked up to me I'd do very well." Wilson took the straw in his mouth and took a few sips. "That feels and tastes so good." Wilson looked at Lydia, who was enjoying her own juice. "Lydia, is he OK?" Wilson said nodding to the doors that House had just left through. "He looks like hell. That's not me being nasty; I'm genuinely concerned."

"Not that I'm lessening anything that you went through, but he's had a very rough night, too. He was signing out at the front desk so he could leave to meet us, when Eric came running through the lobby yelling that an ambulance was bringing three shooting victims from outside Frankly Thai. Now, granted it could have been any three people, but his gut instinct told him it was us."

"And I'm sure he must have freaked when he saw me come out of the ambulance under my own power, and realized that you two were on the stretcher. Probably only took a few seconds for him to figure out who was shot, but those had to be a few seconds of hell," Annie said as she put a straw into her container of cranapple juice.

"I'm sure he was glad I was shot instead of you," Wilson said to Lydia.

"I'm not sure he could have made a choice at that point; everything was utter chaos. Greg didn't have time to think, he just did," Lydia said. "He ran from the front desk to the E.R. without his cane, you know. He fell and crashed into things a bunch of times; he has cuts and bruises all over him. And I'm sure the sight of me kneeling between your legs with my hand in your groin area must have thrown him for a loop."

"I hope you enjoyed it while you were there," Wilson said. He closed his eyes as he grimaced. "Whoa! That one needs a double apology; one to you and one to you," he said looking at Lydia and then at Annie.

"Sorry, my hands were a little too busy with other things to enjoy the terrain," said Lydia as she laughed. Wilson looked at her hands.

"You were the one putting pressure on my femoral artery. I…I would have bled out if it wasn't for you. How badly are your fingers burned?"

"Second-degree, there and on my head. You know, when you watch a movie or something on TV, they never address the fact that it's not just the pain of the bullet entering the body…it burns like hell," noted Lydia.

"Something House and I can now share: being shot," Wilson said dryly. He looked at the two women. "Could you…fill in the blanks? Make sense of some of these…jumbled images I have in my head? Tell me what happened…straight through from the beginning." Lydia and Annie began the whole sorry story with Lydia leaving the hospital to join them at the restaurant through to the present moment in recovery, with stops along the way at the E.R., the O.R., the blood lab where House wanted to give Wilson a third unit of plasma, and Detective Williams coming into the waiting room to tell them about their assailant.

"So as much as everyone was thinking that Annie should have just handed over the necklace and this wouldn't have happened," Lydia said indicating Wilson's hip. "In fact, it was her refusal and your stepping in to protect her that threw the guy off his rhythm, and kept the three of us alive."

"My hero," Annie said giving Wilson a kiss on the cheek.

"Oh, please…I've never been anyone's hero and I'm certainly not starting now," he said shaking his head. "The Executioner? Really? I mean…that's… And the guy…he looked like a kid. How many killings could he have pulled off?"

"Slick's ambulance crew had to clean up after one of his robberies; a mother and two kids, dead. He was a nasty, vicious man who never left any witnesses; we were lucky we survived our run-in with him," said Lydia as she brushed her hair away from the bandage on her forehead. Wilson let out a deep breath.

"Wow; here I am sitting here feeling sorry for myself…with good reason…but what you two went through… And you didn't get hurt?" Wilson asked Annie.

"I just have a scrape on my back," she said waving her hand. "I'm fine."

"The scrape goes across her entire back," House said as he returned with his coffee. "The bricks were architectural in style; they did a number on her. Thirteen treated the area and bandaged it after she helped Songbird take a shower. I figured between the two of us, Thirteen would be the one you'd object to the least. Gave them both," he said nodding toward Lydia as well as Annie "fast release ibuprofen. As a matter of fact, you're both ready for a regular dose if you want it." House set his coffee down on the bed tray and reached into the pocket of his scrub shirt, and pulled out the packages of pills.

"I'll definitely take one," Lydia said reaching for the pill.

"Me, too," Annie said.

"Ah…ah! What's the magic word?" asked House as he held the package up above their heads.

"What?" Annie asked looking over at her friend.

"Don't worry; I'll handle this." Lydia walked over, stood toe to toe with House and said, "Nookie."

"Ding, ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!" House said as he lowered his arm and handed one pill to each of the women.

"House…you…have such a one track mind, it…it's ridiculous." Wilson turned to Lydia. "Aren't you giving him enough?"

"James!" Annie exclaimed.

"Well, I really thought that…once he had a steady girlfriend, he'd be getting it regularly, and not be so… crude about things. Then again, I didn't think he'd ever have a steady girlfriend again. I thought Stacy was a one shot deal." Wilson quickly put up his hands. "House…Lydia, I'm…sorry. I'm so, so sorry…"

"No problem," House said as he picked his coffee up again. "You're just calling 'em the way you really see 'em."

"And for your information," Lydia said as she picked up the wash basin to empty it out. "I'm giving him all he can handle…and more." She smiled and winked at House, who raised his cup to her in a toast. As she started to walk away, an aide came over and took the basin from her.

"Thank you," Lydia said.

"No problem; does Dr. Wilson need anything else?" the aide asked.

"Dr. Wilson needs to have his head examined," Wilson said.

"In a few more hours we can see what…if anything…is up there," House said taking a sip of his coffee. Wilson turned his attention to Lydia.

"Seriously, how do you do it? How do you deal with this jerk? Better yet…why do you put up with him? I had told House, when you first came back to New Jersey, that if things didn't work out between you two, I wanted first crack at your phone number. Things could have…been better for the both of us."

"So you think you would have been better off with Lydia than me?" Annie asked trying to maintain her cool. She had always thought that things were very good between the two of them; good enough to talk about plans for the future, in fact. But now…

"No, I hadn't met you at that point," Wilson said. "I was concerned for her," he said pointing at Lydia. "I knew that House could wind up getting scared, and push her away and I could see her with her heart broken. He would be his usual callous, self-centered jerk and I didn't want Lydia to go through that. She seemed like a sweet lady, which she is. Bad enough he did it to Stacy." Wilson motioned for his juice; Annie helped him with it with just a tinge of reluctance.

"Well may I remind you that I came back to New Jersey looking for Dr. Gregory House, not Dr. James Wilson? You never even stood a chance." She placed her arm around House's shoulders and snuggled in. Wilson shrugged.

"If you want to prove what a real glutton for punishment you are, be my guest. You'd think after putting up with the crap your ex handed out all those years, you'd pick someone a little easier to deal with." Wilson closed his eyes and tossed his head back and forth. "Damn it! House put me back under, knock me out, please! I can't stand this anymore!"

"James, there's nothing wrong with saying what you really feel. I'd much rather have that than the reaction I get from some of the people who work around here," Lydia said putting her juice down and folding her arms. "When people either get told or figure out that Greg and I are a couple, they put this phony, insipid smile on their faces and say 'Oh...how…nice…' like I can't figure out what they're thinking. But the best part? I don't care what they're thinking. I know what we have; and just because they don't see it…too damn bad." Lydia looked at House and smiled. "As much as people may wonder what I see in him…I see all the things that they don't bother to take the time to see. And I'm sure Greg never imagined he'd be with a woman who walks around the house singing the songs from 'The Sound of Music' so much."

"I can handle _you_ singing it; it's when the kids, Songbird and Franz over here start joining in that I need to hide," House said as he sipped his coffee and shot the three of them a look.

"Since I'm in no shape to climb up and down the stairs at the moment for our rousing rendition of 'Do-Re-Me,' you're safe…for now. However, 'Build Me Up Buttercup' is right…at the tip of my tongue; and the only choreography that it requires, uses the arms," Wilson said with a smile.

"Thanks for the warning." House glanced at the clock over the nurses' station. "Change of shift is starting soon. Some of the nurses are here already getting briefed on the charts. I want to make sure the…'situation'…with you is understood."

"Thought you were referring to your handwriting; you give doctors' scrawl a bad name," Wilson said as he took another drink of the juice Annie offered.

"Which is why I printed all of your orders in capital letters," House called over his shoulder as he headed to the desk where Bonnie and one of the incoming nurses were standing. The new nurse introduced herself as Alicia.

"Bonnie was just telling me about Dr. Wilson's case," Alicia said. "I'm shocked. I heard about the shooting on the news last night, but never took note of the names of the people involved."

"That's OK, the media got it wrong; in their rush to report the news, they had my girlfriend shot, too, which scared the poop out of her kids who were at a friends' house." House looked over at the three of them talking away and smiling; it took a lot of bumps in the road to get there, but this is the way their evening was supposed to be.

"Dr. House?" House looked at Alicia and realized she was talking to him. "Ms. Strohman is your girlfriend?" Here it comes; what the hell is she doing with you? House simply nodded his head in response to the nurse's question.

"I had seen you two having lunch in the cafeteria a few times, but I didn't want to presume anything. I mean, you've been here…a long time, but I had never seen you with anyone. Now, Ms. Strohman starts working here and you two wind up together…it's sort of sweet." House finished writing his last few notes on Wilson's chart and handed it to her.

"Actually we'd known each other for a while. When she moved back to New Jersey a few months ago, she looked me up…and the rest, as they say…is history. Are my notes clear?" Alicia nodded.

"Dr. Wilson will be up in I.C.U. on the dot of ten," she said. "Do you want him to sign the consent for the MRI before he goes up so the saline can be started immediately?" House thought it over.

"No, he's going to have his fan club visiting him. If he gives us a hard time about signing the consent, they can help us by ganging up on him," he replied.

"OK," she said with a smile. House made his way over to Wilson's bed. He glanced up at the monitors; they were holding steady, which pleased him to no end.

"Ladies, I think it's time we give this one a chance to rest; I know I could sure use a few extra zzz's. They're going to start to move you just before ten, settle you into I.C.U., and have you sign the consent form. One or more of my team will be up there with me and these two hot on your wheels."

"Don't you mean heels?" Wilson corrected.

"No, wheels," House said as he kicked one of the wheels on Wilson's bed. "For the first time in fifteen or so years, I have more self-propelled mobility that you do."

"Enjoy it while you can;" Wilson said. "I'm going to be back on my feet in no time."

"Sure, sure; big talk for now," Annie said teasing Wilson. "I'll be right beside you every step of the way, Sweetie. Count on it." She touched his face, then dropped her hand down to his.

"Annie…we…talked about so much the day you came home, including…a life together. We said we'd wait a bit…but after this, I don't want to…I…"

"Shhh! James! The only thing you are going to think about right now, is getting better. I'm not going anywhere…we can talk about future plans later."

"Yes, you wouldn't want me to have to be pushed down the aisle…I'll have to do it on my own two feet when I take the plunge again," Wilson said ruefully. "Then again, you stopped me from even asking the question."

"I told you: you can ask me when the time is right. You'll know when that time is…and you know what my answer will be." Annie leaned in and gave Wilson a kiss which set off his alarms again.

"You two crazy kids are going to have to stop doing this," House said as he waved off the nurse and aides.

"Nice to know I still have that effect on you," Annie said.

"That's the only way to tell; I still can't feel a thing from my waist down," Wilson said looking at House.

"When we get you up to I.C.U. pain management will come in and set you up with the morphine pump, and we'll lower the epidural way down. You'll still have decent pain relief; it'll be good enough to get you through your first therapy sessions. Be aware of one thing: you'll start to feel a lot of things down there again including charming Frankie Foley having residence in your little Jimmy. That's staying in until your kidneys start to show some improvement. We can work with Tom and see which pain meds he recommends to start you on in a day or two so you can go home with them. If it was up to me, I have a nice long list of wicked good drugs for you; the thing is, you might wind up liking them a little too much."

"Oh, please; the last thing I need is to be strung out and addicted like you were," Wilson said with a wave of his hand. "Sorry, House," he said as he turned his head away from his friend.

"No problem. I wouldn't want to see you like that either. I'm sure it wasn't a pretty sight." Wilson still wouldn't make eye contact with his friend.

"It's frightening…it's heartbreaking…I can't tell you…how many times I either sat at home or in my car or my office…crying in frustration…that I couldn't figure out how to help you." Wilson looked up at House; it was now his turn to avoid eye contact. "Lydia, I swear…you have the patience of a saint, and I'm really glad that you do." House remembered how emotional Wilson got the other night with just a few beers in him; with the recesses of his mind fully oiled and ready to go from the trauma he experienced, House knew he'd better take control of the conversation before Wilson wound up proposing to him instead of Annie.

"Sorry to get you all twisted in a knot about me, but yes, I'm just fine now that I have Fraulein," House said quickly to distract Wilson. "Do you think you can fall back to sleep on your own or are you going to need some help?"

"No, no…I'm tired enough to drift off for a while." Wilson almost seemed disappointed that House didn't want to continue the emotional conversation; House was just as glad to get away from it.

"Sweetie, you rest," Annie said as she gave Wilson a kiss. "I'll be with you when you head up to I.C.U." Wilson nodded.

"James, our cars are still over by the restaurant," Lydia said. "I'm going to get some help to pick them up; I'll have yours brought to the house, since that's where you'll be coming back to. Is there anything I can bring you from home?"

"My razor," Wilson said looking at Lydia. "I guess get my laptop out of my office…"

"Do you really want your razor?" Annie asked. "I was hoping you'd use this opportunity to finally grow some facial hair," she teased.

"It might be an idea," House said. "At least just to prove you can."

"Just because you can…walk around looking like you forgot what a comb and razor are for…and still look hot, doesn't mean all of us want to go that route." House gave Wilson a look.

"You did _not_ just call me hot."

"What? Of course not!" Lydia and Annie could not control themselves; they both laughed until they had tears coming from their eyes.

"Remember: all filters are off," Lydia said taking House's hand in hers.

"And what am I supposed to think?" Annie asked, trying not to laugh.

"Don't…think anything. Just…" Wilson looked at the three of them. "Let me get some rest."

"To be continued," Lydia said as she gave Wilson a kiss good bye. Wilson rolled his eyes.

"Bye, sweetie; don't do anything without me," Annie said giving him a kiss and walked toward Lydia who was heading to the doors.

"I'll be right there," House said over his shoulder. He looked back at Wilson. "Nice going, moron."

"I meant to say that…women thought you looked hot with the scruffy look. Not that the women you paid to be with you had any choice in the matter." Wilson winced and shook his head. "House…"

"Quit apologizing; it's beginning to get annoying. I'm just glad you didn't say that in front of Lydia."

"Your vast experience with women still bothering her?"

"Had the unfortunate experience of running into one of my former playmates the other day. The dizz brain didn't think not to say anything in front of Fraulein about the nature of our prior relationship." House's gaze was focused on the ladies as he spoke. "I worked my way out of it by reminding her that the bimbo was my past and she was my present; that and a quickie before the kids came home did the trick." Wilson shook his head.

"Leave it to you to find a way to get out of these things," he said. House shrugged.

"Get some rest; I know I need sleep." House turned and started to walk away.

"House?" He turned to look at Wilson. "Thanks for saving my life." House looked away.

"It wasn't just me; you've got a bunch of people to grovel to. Besides, if anything ever happened to you…things would get kind of boring around here." Wilson smiled, put his head back against the pillow, and closed his eyes. House joined Lydia and Annie, and the three exited recovery.

"He's doing well…isn't he?" Annie asked nervously.

"His numbers are good," House said. "Didn't say anything to him, but as he peed into the Foley bag, the color was already starting to lighten up."

"But you're still going to want to do the MRI rather than the CT scan because the urine isn't completely clear yet?" Lydia asked. House knew she was playing student as well as concerned friend; and she was right.

"The MRI will be safer for him for now," House said as he entered the waiting area. Lydia and Annie were right behind him, and almost walked right into House as he stopped and surveyed the scene. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson were busy fixing themselves coffee, Taub had a muffin on a plate, along with an apple, and Chase was finishing what appeared to be his second OJ as he scanned the pastries that were spread out before him.

"Aren't we all early birds this morning?" House asked as he grabbed the very donut that Chase was about to select. "Why are you up at the crack of dawn?"

"Greg?" Lydia pointed to the clock up on the wall. "We were in with James for over an hour."

"Time flies…etc., etc," House said as he talked around the donut he held in his mouth.

"Did you find my note?" Annie asked the Wilsons.

"Yes, we did, dear." Mrs. Wilson said. "I was concerned that you hadn't gotten enough rest, but I knew you'd rather be with James than with his two old fogey parents." She gave Annie a quick hug. "I have to say, you look wonderful for getting so little sleep."

"Thank you; James wanted me to go get some more sleep because I look 'raggy' when I don't get enough," Annie said laughing.

"He what?" Henry Wilson said. "He's definitely sick! Granted, this is only the second time I've seen you, but you've always looked lovely. And it's especially amazing under these conditions."

"I know that there is going to be a point where this is going to be very difficult for the two of you," Annie said taking Claudia Wilson's hand. "You're going to be hearing James being completely honest…and that includes good and bad. If he never told you how much he appreciated you having a family dinner every Sunday, he just may come out and say it. Then again if there's an issue he always had a problem with, it won't matter who's in the room…he's going to come out and say what he has to say." Claudia and Henry Wilson looked at each other.

"I suppose we…could look at this as a good opportunity to finally clear the air on some things," Henry said with a sigh.

"Don't dwell on it for now," Lydia said as she fixed herself a cup of coffee. "Just enjoy the fact that you still have him; he came very close to dying, but I'm sure his love for his family and friends got him through it." The Wilsons nodded and went over to the food table to pick out something to eat. "Hon, do you want anything to eat?"

"The only thing I want right now is to be in the arms of Morpheus. I grabbed half a bagel when I came in to get coffee and I had the donut I stole from Chase. I'm good for now." He sat down on the couch where the pillows and blankets that he and Lydia had been using earlier still remained. House swung his feet up and closed his eyes.

"Lucky for me there was a second chocolate glazed donut," Chase said. "I was ready to fight you for that one."

"And they call me the human garbage can," House noted. "Didn't you scoff down enough of the spread when you got out of surgery? It sure as hell seemed like you did."

"House, what we ate when we got out of the O.R. was our dinner," said Taub. House opened his eyes and looked at the members of his team who were in the room.

"I guess none of us ate a regularly scheduled meal yesterday," he said closing his eyes again. "Where's Thirteen?"

"She texted me that she was going to re-culture the wound on the patient's leg. Said the one the main lab here did looked blurry," noted Foreman.

"Either that or she needs glasses," House mumbled.

"You know, seriously," Taub said. "With all those migraines she's been having, maybe she does need glasses."

"I was being serious," said House in an annoyed voice. He was in no mood to engage in chit-chat; the idea of telling the nurses in recovery that he was parking his butt in there was immensely appealing at this point.

"Why don't you go up to the lounger in your office? Or the couch in James' office?" Lydia quietly suggested. "It sounds like Thirteen's up and moving around, so it's available." House shook his head.

"When I was brought in after the crane collapse, Wilson stayed with me for three nights straight; he only went home after Thirteen and Chase agreed to babysit me. I intend on breaking his record," House said as he grabbed the blanket and pulled it up over his head. Lydia rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'm going to leave in a little bit to get the cars from the restaurant. When I stop at home, I'll pick up a change of clothes for you. Anything else?" House pulled the blanket down.

"The remainder of that bottle of whiskey on the bar," he said. "And a few gingerbread cookies." Lydia made a face.

"That's not a very appetizing combo; plus, I don't think drinking on the job would be looked upon too kindly." House considered her comment for a moment.

"Yeah, the cookies will be enough of a comfort factor for now; I'll save the whiskey for when I can openly enjoy it without well-meaning but stupid comments. Make it a bunch of cookies instead of just a few." With that, House pulled the blanket over himself again.

"Lydia, would you mind if we gave you a hand picking up the cars?" Mr. Wilson asked. "If you don't mind, Annie, we'd like to take you up on that offer to stay at either your place or James'."

"No problem; stay at mine. It's more likely that people will be going back and forth there and you can wind up carpooling with someone." Annie patted the pants pocket on her scrubs, then shook her head. "I was going to say, 'Here, take my keys,' but I forgot I don't have them."

"I think I can help with that," a voice said. Detective Williams walked into the room, holding a bag and smiling. "I have some items here that I'm sure belong to you and Dr. Wilson. Just need you to confirm their ownership, sign a receipt for me, and they're all yours." The smile on Annie's face lit up the room and it spread to everyone else. Even House threw the blanket off his face and sat up. Lydia sat down next to him; though she knew it would need repair, she couldn't wait to get back the necklace the creep took from her. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, made more so by the fact that it was a gift from House, given to her "just because."

"Why don't you have a seat?" Williams said indicating the other couch. "And we can go over this." Annie sat down; she was as fidgety as kid on Christmas morning. "OK…describe what your pocketbook looks like."

"It's an envelope clutch, light brown leather…" Williams reached into the canvas bag he had, marked "Princeton P.D.," and pulled out Annie's pocketbook.

"Not that the guy had time to stop and take anything out, but I'd like you to verify the contents," the detective said. It didn't take Annie long to see that her wallet, cell phone and keys were all there. "And I believe these items are also yours." Annie smiled when she saw her claddagh ring, her watch, and the emerald heart bracelet that she always wore.

"Thank God, my hair hid my earrings," said Annie pushing her locks back so her ears could be seen. "He probably would have just grabbed them and ripped," she said shuddering.

"I wouldn't doubt it," Williams said. "I've had the chance to delve into his background a bit more. That kid had some rap sheet for someone so young. Sadly, it's something my task force is seeing more and more."

"How old was he?" Lydia asked.

"Sixteen." The gasp heard in the room came from almost everyone, shocked that someone so young could be so vicious.

"I know…considering what he put us through and what he did to James, I should have no pity," Lydia said shaking her head. "But all I can do is think of the pain his mother is going through…"

"Look, for all you know, he would have had the cell next to his mother," House said as he rubbed his eyes.

"No matter what, Greg, he still was someone's child."

"Maybe Wilson was right; maybe you two would have been a better match," House said wryly.

"Do you have James' things in there?" Annie asked, ignoring House.

"Yes; I should have Dr. Wilson I.D. them, but I don't doubt that you can name the items." Sure enough, Annie reeled off a description of Wilson's wallet, watch and cell phone. "Great; if you'll just initial by each item on the list, and then sign at the bottom, you'll be all set." As Annie was about to sign, she realized that something was missing.

"What about Lydia's necklace?" she asked. Williams made a face and looked over at Lydia.

"I'm sorry…at this point it's still missing. The area along the side street is still a crime scene, because several shell casings are unaccounted for. I've made the CSI's handling the investigation aware to keep their eyes open for it. He may have tossed it aside when he started shooting at my officers." Lydia put her head down and fought back tears.

"Thank you, Detective Williams. I appreciate the effort to find it; it's very special to me," Lydia said as she stood, and took a napkin to wipe her eyes with.

"I appreciate the fact that you're still here to bawl your eyes out over something that can easily be replaced," House said as she sat back down next to him.

"As opposed to me, who is one of a kind?" Lydia said still sniffling.

"A fact you go out of your way to prove to me over and over again." House allowed Lydia to snuggle in against him; he usually kept such displays for only select groups like Wilson and Annie, occasionally his team. Now he was too tired to care that the Wilsons and Williams were in the room, too.

"House?" he cringed as he recognized Thirteen's voice.

"Goody, the prodigal child has come for her share of the breakfast spread; lucky for us, it looks like Cherry Valley has already killed the fatted donut," House quipped. "How's the new culture going?"

"I…I didn't take it yet. House, we have a problem," Thirteen said looking extremely upset. "I don't know what the hell this bacteria is…"

"And you probably never will unless we pull the culture as opposed to the clowns down in the flea circus of a general lab we have here," noted House.

"House…some of his toes and part of the top of his foot are starting to discolor. I don't know how it could be happening so quickly…but it looks like gangrene is setting in."


	10. Chapter 10

"Life and Limb"

Chapter Ten - "Life is Just What you Make It"

By: Purpleu

"Why can't some people learn their manners and wait their turn?" House said disgustedly. Granted after the MRI was done on Wilson, and everything was hopefully good, House could turn more of his attention to the mystery bacteria that this firefighter picked up. He felt a special need to get an answer for the case, since one of his specialties was infectious diseases; he did not agree with the concept that even he got stumped once in a while. Lurking in the background still was his mother slowly dying and the issue of his leg. Right now, his leg was killing him, a combination of overuse and missing his nighttime dose of medicine. He'd have Lydia bring his pill case over to the hospital since he intended on camping out there for the next several days until Wilson was literally back on his feet. As far as his mother…she was a strong woman, she had to be to suffer through the abuse John House put upon her. House just hoped she had the strength to hang on until he cleared things up around the hospital; if not to get answers, but to say he was sorry for thinking the worst of her all these years.

"House I can see the wheels turning," Foreman said. "Where are you going with this?"

"It depends on where he's gone," House replied. He looked at Lydia. "How far did you get when you played twenty questions with him?"

"I looked over the information sheet he filled out, asked him what brought him in, although from looking at the leg, it was very obvious. Inquired if he was allergic to any medication, to which he said no. Asked him if he had traveled out of the country or had been near anyone who was ill; the answers to both of those were no. He said that the poison ivy happened approximately a month ago, and that he unfortunately had 'busy fingers' as he put it; scratched at the one area on the left calf constantly. He said the wound never did close up." House thought for moment.

"That's as far as you got." Lydia nodded.

"I took his temperature, which was not particularly high, 100.3. He said it had been bouncing up and down for the past few days. I was about to take his blood pressure when he seized." House turned his attention to his team.

"Who took the medical history?"

"Thirteen and I did," Taub replied. "We got the information from his wife; he was unconscious the whole time."

"He hasn't really fully awakened," Thirteen said. "His responses were very mumbled, weak; so we concentrated on questioning his wife. But, nothing remarkable other than the poison ivy incident."

"And the aches and pains he's had since he fell off a ladder at one of his calls," Lydia noted. House tried to remain calm.

"When were you going to share this little tidbit with the rest of the class?" he asked twirling his cane as he spoke. Lydia knew she was not in the same league as any of House's team members, but she did know how to take proper notes; it all depended on whether someone bothered to read them.

"I wrote it down along with my other notes on the patient on the information sheet he filled out; I've always understood that to be proper procedure," Lydia said in an even tone. House shot her a quick look and then addressed Thirteen.

"Let me see the chart." Thirteen handed the binder to House and glanced at Taub and Chase. The three of them were clearly uncomfortable.

"Umm…I think I should move along," Detective Williams said. Just about everyone turned and looked at him with surprise; they had forgotten that he was in the room. "If I hear anything about your necklace, I'll contact you," he said to Lydia.

"Thank you, I appreciate that," she replied. With a quick glance backward at the group, Detective Williams left the room.

"Wow," House said with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. "Here it is, right on the information sheet like all clinic notes usually are: 'patient fell from ladder approximately six weeks ago, complained of aches and pains since then; x-ray revealed no broken bones. Primary MD said patient should see a PT if pain continues.'"

"House, you're always the first one to say how useless the clinic, and even E.R. notes can be…" Chase began.

"And I also always say that they should be given a cursory glance in case there's a diamond buried in the pig poop. Confirm with the wife whether he's been to see a PT or not. If he has, find out what if any meds he's been given. If she says he hasn't been to a PT, we need to find out how he's been dealing with the pain."

"His tox screen was clean," Chase pointed out.

"And we all know that tox screens only care about the fun stuff; there are plenty of other pain pills, less fun but more deadly…like ibuprofen," House said giving Chase a hard stare. House looked at Lydia and Taub. "You two still going over to the patient's house later?"

"I have the keys right here," Lydia said holding up a key ring with a bright piece of metal hanging from it. She looked up at the clock. "We'll have to do it either before twelve or after three; that's when the kids will be here. As much as Ben would love to go and see how invading a person's home relates to medicine, I think it would compromise things if I brought either one of the kids along." House kept a blank expression on his face, but he was pleased at the way Lydia was handling the situation. Her kids were important to her, but in this scenario, it was best if they stayed in the background.

"Lydia, you go do what you have to," Annie said. "If Marianne comes by with the kids before you get back, I'll let them visit with James for a little bit and then we can go to the cafeteria, maybe the gift shop…now that I have my pocketbook back I can take care of things."

"You know, your children were very good with us when they visited last night," Mrs. Wilson said. "They were very polite, and they listened when we told them to do or not to do something. As long as one of us is with James so he knows we're still here, I think everything will be fine."

"Thank you, Mrs. Wilson; that's very kind of you," said Lydia with a smile.

"Don't be silly," Mr. Wilson said. "We…we don't get to spend any time with our two grandkids due to some…unfortunate and sad circumstances. But that doesn't mean we're lacking in the grandparent gene." He took a sip of his coffee. "Just say the word when you're ready to go pick up the cars."

"I'll be ready in just a minute; I want to grab a quick bite to eat." Lydia refreshed her coffee and looked over the morning pastries. House took a deep breath; he decided he might as well give in to the empty feeling in his stomach.

"Hey, Fraulein; grab a bagel for me."

"Sure, plain or…"

"Salt if they have it. I'll treat it like a pretzel." House looked at the notes in the patient's chart which still sat on his lap. He closed the book and handed it to Thirteen.

"I'll meet you down at the lab. I want to look at a slide of the culture, see what we have. Re-do his labs while you're there. If gangrene is starting to set in, his white cell count should be much higher than this. Someone or something is lying and we need to figure out what. Piggy-back on doxycycline to the cephalosporin; infuse it at the same rate." Thirteen nodded and left the room silently. Lydia sat down next to House and handed him his bagel and a napkin; she began to eat a blueberry muffin. "Why are you covering for her?" he asked as he started to pull apart his bagel. House turned his gaze to Chase and Taub who looked extremely guilty.

"What makes you think we're covering for her?" Chase asked.

"I don't know; maybe it's the faint pink glow that came into your cheeks and rapidly turned to a lovely shade of crimson as I discovered that Thirteen screwed up."

"House, we were all in the room; Taub and I set up the patient's IV's and got the cardio monitor set. We were all asking questions and taking notes…"

"Ah, now you're turning into Pinocchio; Taub's nose grew a long time ago, yours is just starting. The only handwriting on the chart belongs to Thirteen and Lydia," House noted. "Which brings me back around to my original question: Why are you covering for her?"

"House, I think she may have gotten some bad news from the doctor," Foreman said. "She's been too tired and in too much pain to drive home more nights than she's letting on."

"Her car hasn't moved out of the parking spot it's in for six nights straight. We know why it was here last night, but the other nights…" Taub said.

"We wound up calling Slick to see if he knew anything," Chase said. "He had no idea what was up. They were supposed to have dinner one night; she begged off saying she had to work. He just found out that the woman she was seeing recently broke things off because Thirteen kept backing out of dates."

"So she was lying when she made the big deal out of having a girlfriend," Lydia noted. The three men nodded.

"Have you tried approaching her?" Annie asked "Tell her you know how she's been behaving, and ask her point blank what's going on."

"Tried that," Foreman said. "Individually as well as the three of us together. She just brushes us off."

"Too much going on right now to throw her problems into the mix," said House. "Help has been offered; if she doesn't want to take it, that's her problem." He pulled a piece off his bagel and began to nosh on it. "I'm going up to see if I can beat any more information out of the wife." House looked to his left and saw the disapproving look on Lydia's face. "I don't mean it literally…jeezes!"

"You'll attract more flies with honey than vinegar," said Lydia as she sipped her coffee.

"You're a lot sweeter than I am," House noted. "I have a pH of…negative two." House wrapped up the remainder of his bagel in the napkin Lydia gave him and put it in his pocket. "Text me when you get back with the change of clothes for me. Don't want to spend any more time than I have to in these."

"Afraid someone may actually mistake you for a doctor?" Foreman asked. House shot him a look.

"No, a janitor." Lydia was the only one in the room who understood the comment in relation to House's past, and it brought a smile to her face.

"Any preference on which clothes I bring you? Or which sneakers?" House hesitated in the doorway of the room.

"My usual fashion statement is fine; and I'll keep these for now," he said indicating his feet. "See you later."

"Bye." Lydia took a last drink of coffee; she stood, tossed the cup away and turned to the Wilsons. "Well, I guess I'm ready to go…" Lydia looked at the set of keys she pulled out of her pocket. "Oh, wait…these belong to the Sheelers. Mine are…in my pocketbook which I hid in Greg's office earlier." Lydia went to put her hand on her forehead, but stopped herself before she wound up in pain.

"Do you want me to go get it for you, Lydia?" Chase asked.

"No, thank you. I have to also get the bags with our soiled clothes in them and get them soaking or to the cleaners; although I have the feeling most of them may be ruined. Besides Robert, I don't want to spoil your reputation with the ladies." Chase looked at her curiously. "Carrying a pocketbook throughout the halls of the hospital won't get you any dates."

"True; it doesn't go with my usual style," he laughed.

"I'm going to try to catch up to Greg," Lydia said to the Wilsons. "I'll meet you in the lobby by the front desk." Lydia hurried out of the room, and turned the corner of the hallway that led to the elevators just in time to see House step inside the elevator car. "Greg! Hold the elevator!" House stuck his cane out and prevented the doors from closing.

"Miss me that much? You couldn't wait to be in my presence again?"

"I can't wait to get my car keys and pocketbook, so I'm able to drive," Lydia said as she stepped into the car. "I also want to quickly do what I can with our clothes; they've been in the bags with the blood just soaking into them; I'm not holding out much hope."

"Yours and Annie's took the biggest hit…concentrate on them. Mine is just a white shirt and some socks; the suit pants are black and they didn't get too much damage. All in all, no big deal to replace," House said as he pushed the button for the fourth floor.

"Annie already threw out what she was wearing; they were so blood soaked they probably would have been a loss anyway. Plus she said it would remind her too much of last night."

"There are going to be plenty of things in the future which will remind her of last night; the wound's too raw right now, but she's going to have to get over it. I eventually want to sample some food from that place."

"Hopefully they have take-out," Lydia noted. The elevator stopped at the first floor and the doors opened onto the lobby. House started to reach over to close the doors so they could keep moving.

"Hold the elevator!" House's hand had almost made it to the "close doors" button, when Lydia stopped him and held her hand out to block the doors from closing. "Thank you," the man said.

"Dr. Ellis," Lydia said. "Hello, how are you today?" Ellis, the orthopedic surgeon who had operated on Wilson, did a double take.

"Ms. Strohman, Dr. House," he said. "I'm fine. How is Dr. Wilson doing?"

"Well enough. Taking him in for an MRI; he's showing signs of swelling in the frontal cortex. Want to see if it's due the volume of red cells and plasma we shoved into him…or if there's bleeding," House said.

"He took a hell of a beating with the trauma he suffered," Ellis said. "Oh, could you press six, please?" House pressed the button and looked at Ellis.

"You had to spend a lot of time cleaning out the bone fragments," he said. "You're sure you got them all?"

"Pretty sure; I'd say we got ninety-nine percent of them out. Whatever might be left isn't going to cause any problems with the functioning of the unit he has in there. Who's his therapist going to be?"

"Tom Wilkinson," Lydia said. "He's a friend of ours and we're very familiar with his outstanding work." Ellis nodded.

"Tom is fantastic," he said. "Having first-hand experience with the problems involved in PT makes him an excellent therapist. Forgive me for prying, Dr. House…but since he's a friend, I take it you're working with him yourself, aren't you?" House gave him a look.

"What makes you say that?" House looked up at the floor indicator; they were almost at the fourth floor. House felt it couldn't come soon enough.

"I've noticed recently when I've seen you around the hospital, you appear to have a stronger stride, less reliance on your cane."

"He's…" House hesitated. He never talked about his leg with anyone outside of those who had become close or closer to him. But he liked and respected Ellis; he was a damn good doctor and neither took nor gave any guff. _Oh, what the hell,_ House said to himself. _He did just save Wilson from a life of being like_ _me._ "He's recommended some different medications and I'm doing therapy twice a week with him." The doors of the elevator opened as they arrived at the fourth floor. House and Lydia were both surprised when Ellis stepped off with them.

"Dr. Ellis, this is the fourth floor," said Lydia as she held the elevator doors for him.

"It's OK; I'll grab the next one. I wanted to talk to Dr. House for a minute." _Oh crap,_ House thought; _didn't Ellis just say everything went well with Wilson? Or is this going to be everything's good…but…_ Only one way to find out…

"What's up?" House asked. Ellis looked at Lydia and then back at House. "It's OK; you can talk in front of her. She's my personal secretary." Lydia folded her arms and gave House a look.

"Oh my; I knew you were the Director of Insurance Relations and Billings. I didn't know you held a second position as well," Ellis said giving Lydia a nod.

"She's my girlfriend," House admitted. "Which I suppose some people would say is a full-time job in and of itself." Dr. Ellis laughed.

"I never would have guessed," he said. "Dr. House, I'll make this brief; Dr. Foreman told me you have a patient in addition to Dr. Wilson to take care of, so you obviously have a lot on your plate."

"Understatement of the year," House said half under his breath. "Let's keep moving to my office; you can talk on the way."

"I know a young woman who did an internship with my office about ten, twelve years ago," Ellis began as the trio made their way down the hall. "She has gone into research with an emphasis on dealing with severe injuries to the limbs. Her work has been used by the federal government in aiding the men and women coming back from the Middle East. The nature of their wounds is catastrophic; a limb blown off is much easier to deal with medically, than one than remains basically intact, but severely mangled." House got the picture; this wasn't about Wilson, this was about him. "I was wondering, Dr. House, if you had considered the next step beyond the therapy that you're doing."

"Way too much going on to put myself out of commission at the moment," House said as he opened his office door. "Plus, I'm not comfortable in the role of patient. Every time I've played the part, I've always gotten lousy reviews."

"Please forgive the odor in Dr. House's office at the moment," Lydia said as she eyed House up to see his real reaction to Ellis' comments. "We stored a few items of clothing that were badly blood soaked in here; I'm taking them home with the hope that at least some of the things are salvageable." Lydia made a mental note to bring back one of the plug-in air fresheners she had at home. It would be a subtle yet effective way to deal with the smell.

"Good luck with that," Ellis said. "I helped out at a bad car accident a few years back. Didn't get that much blood on me, but I couldn't get my clothing dealt with for several hours. I hate to tell you I had to throw them away." Ellis turned his attention back to House. "I know you're very busy and I've always felt that doctors make the lousiest patients. But the work Liz Grady has been doing has solid reasoning behind it which is why it has been so successful. Right now, the procedures she's developed have only been used on fresh wounds; she starting work on seeing if the same principles hold fast for older injuries. I don't know anything about the nature of your wound, except that it was caused by an infarction years ago and surgery wasn't successful. It must have left you in a great deal of pain. You, of all people would be able to understand and appreciate her approach to the problems connected with muscles and nerves. I was hoping I could at least, at some point, tell you about her work." Lydia wanted to jump up and down and scream "Tell us now!" but she contained herself as she gather the bags and her pocketbook.

"What wiz-bang magical way has she found to grow muscle back?" House asked sarcastically.

"She uses the patient's own stem cells," replied Ellis. "And also uses them as the support system to strengthen the area as the tissue takes." House was taken back as was Lydia; Ellis took advantage of the break in the conversation to continue speaking. "If you have a building that's falling apart and weak, what do you do to shore up the structure before you begin repair work?"

"Put up scaffolding," said House, now intrigued by what Ellis had to say.

"Exactly. The scaffolding in the case of the patient is made of stem cells from their own body, therefore lessening the chance of rejection to near zero. The work on the replacement muscle tissue also uses the patient's stem cells…I would go further into the details, but it would take a while." Lydia looked hopefully at House. There would be no harm in just giving the information a once over…but she knew him well enough to know he was just going to brush Ellis off.

"The idea is a unique and very sensible approach to things; but I'm sure I have far too much missing from my Silly Putty glob of muscle to make it worth the effort to try…" House began.

"Dr. House, I'm sure you've seen the horrific pictures of the soldiers coming back from overseas. The work Liz has done is amazing and she's aligned with the staff at the New Jersey Institute of Technology, so you wouldn't have to travel very far to receive treatment, or even take a first-hand look at her work. Look, it's not going to fix everything; you'll still have some pain, and therefore be on medication. And you'll never do less than ten seconds in a hundred meter dash…but things could be a lot better. It depends on exactly what state you can work your leg into prior to treatment, and how hard you're willing to work for it." House could see that Ellis was enthusiastic about his protégé's work, but now was not the time to be thinking about himself. He knew how often people called him self-centered in the past, and many a time they were right. But right now he was more concerned about the practical medicine that could be applied to Wilson, his patient and his mother rather than Gray's book of anatomical fairy tales.

"I appreciate your taking the time to inform me of the work your former intern is doing. Maybe when everything calms down around here, I can look over the spec sheet on things and play Q and A with you. But for now…" Ellis held up his hands.

"I understand, Dr. House; I just thought you ought to know about the work being done in this area." Ellis turned to leave, then stopped. "Oh, what time are you bringing Dr. Wilson to the I.C.U.?"

"Ten. Once he's settled in, he'll be prepped for the MRI," House said as he started to look at the mail that had been dumped on his desk.

"I wouldn't be interfering if I stopped by to check on him, would I?"

"Nope, knock yourself out and earn that inflated bedside visit fee; far be it from me to stop you," House replied. Ellis wasn't sure how to take what House said, so he let it drop.

"I guess I'll see you down there later." Ellis extended his hand to House, who took it with less reluctance than usual. He kept in the back of his head the debt he owed Ellis for his help to Wilson. Ellis turned to Lydia. "Take care, Ms. Strohman; I know you've had a rough time with all of this, too."

"Thank you for everything," Lydia said as she took his hand. "I'll be fine." Ellis smiled and nodded, then turned and left House's office.

"So, are you at least going to consider looking into what Dr. Ellis was talking about?" House looked over at Lydia as she picked up her pocketbook. She had placed her handbag and the bloodied, bagged clothing in the conference room to start to relieve the smell in House's office. He had sat down; the precious few minutes he could afford to sit here was invaluable to him.

"I will admit it's based on a solid idea. The majority of problems with any kind of transplant or artificial device is rejection by the body; that and infection. I doubt it would work for me though."

"Hmm…no probably not," Lydia said as she fished her keys out. "Not when you've already made up your mind it's going to fail." House opened his mouth, then closed it and looked away from Lydia. She took a step closer to him and bent over. "You're not in a good state of mind to even make an attempt at an objective opinion on the subject. Wait until you can have an open mind with it. But don't write it off before you've even had a chance to look at it." She moved in to give House a kiss, but had to back up when he suddenly stood up. She was surprised when he gathered her in his arms and gave her a long, gentle kiss. When he finally moved his head back, he continued the embrace by pulling Lydia in and resting his head on her shoulder. She didn't know what prompted the display of affection or why House decided to engage in it here of all places. They were careful to keep things to a minimum around the hospital; that, at the moment was thrown out the window.

"Are you OK?" Lydia asked when she had a chance to look at House. He was pale, except for the dark circles under his eyes that were so pronounced, they gave the appearance of bruises. Not that the discoloration took anything away from the beauty of House's striking blue eyes; but the wear and tear of the past twelve hours were clearly taking their toll.

"I'm fine. I just…" Lydia followed his eyes and realized that he was looking at the bandage on her forehead. She looked down as he picked up her hands and lightly touched her wounded fingers. "I needed a few minutes with you. Last night was one of the first times in a while that I was going to be able to fall asleep and wake up with you in my arms…and have a bunch of fun in between. I feel cheated that we didn't get to have that." Lydia smiled; unbeknownst to many people, House could be incredibly sweet and tender…like right now.

"I missed that, too," Lydia said. "It has been a while since we've had more than just an hour or two to ourselves. It's been harder than I thought it would be to juggle work with my schooling, the kids' school, their soccer, music lessons…if you didn't pitch in and make dinner a couple of times a week, and stop at the stores for things we need…"

"It's self-defense; I don't want to go hungry," House said with a little smile. "Look, I told you from the beginning: I am behind you on the idea of completing your education. It was a crime it was denied you all those years ago. You finish your Bachelor of Science, then see which of the graduate programs you want to take."

"Greg, if I try to go beyond a Bachelor's degree, either you'll never see me or it will take me years."

"So if it takes you ten years to get your doctorate, you'll still only be fifty-one," House said as he put his hands on her shoulders. "As I'm finding out, it's not a bad age to start your life over again. You're too good not to take the next step."

"I'm not trying to put blame on anyone else, but Greg, my notes were there and I think they were very clear. I'm worried about Thirteen." House sighed as he took a step back and away from Lydia.

"I'm not happy with the situation either; nor is my team. Which all makes for a bunch of distracted doctors, and right now that is the last thing we need around here."

"I know you're going to say something to her when you go to the lab now; please tell her if she needs help with anything, I'll be glad to do it. If she needs a ride to the doctors or…"

"Slow down. I'm looking to spend more time with you not less," House reminded Lydia.

"I know; I just feel sorry for her. She watched her mother waste away from Huntington's; it's got to be a terrible thing to live with," Lydia said as she ran her hands down House's arms.

"OK, I agree with you. Now can we get back to us?" House hesitated for a moment. "It's very unsettling to be having hallucinations without the benefit of the substance that put the crazies in your mind." Lydia was puzzled by his statement. "I wasn't even there, but I keep seeing images of the three of you…Wilson getting shot, Annie bloodied and screaming…you with a gun to your head…" House closed his eyes and shook his head. "And it's not even that I'm seeing the images when I've tried to sleep; I saw them when we were outside talking to my mother, when we were in with Wilson…I haven't even had a drop to drink or a pill of any kind and this is happening." House opened his eyes, but couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with Lydia. "I'm scared. I haven't had anything like this since I detoxed at Mayfield."

"You weren't there," Lydia said guiding House to his desk chair. "But it's almost worse, because the more active your imagination, the more vivid and horrid the images you can conjure up. I've always gotten more scared at horror movies that _don't_ show what was happening, but rather just people's reaction to it." She reached over and ran her hand down House's cheek. "You haven't had proper or enough sleep, you have far too many things dividing your attention, and even though the food has been wonderful, you're not eating on a normal schedule. What you have eaten, hasn't stayed down because you've gotten yourself so twisted in a knot. At some point, you're going to have to take a step back." House let out a deep breath.

"I'm not going to be able to relax until the MRI confirms that Wilson is OK, until my patient stops lying to us so we can help him, until I go see my mother, and until I spend at least twenty-four hours straight naked with you. Since none of those things are likely to happen any time soon, I guess I better learn how to share my world with the heebie-jeebies." House stood up and gave Lydia another kiss. "Go do what you have to; I'm going to see what secrets our patient's been hiding." Lydia gave House a quick hug, picked up her belongings and hurried down the hall to the elevators. She knew if she stayed with House too long, she'd keep trying to convince him to take a break and that would only piss him off. The elevator came quickly and she tried to put her concerns for House to the back of her mind on the ride down to the lobby. When the doors opened, and Lydia stepped out she spotted the Wilsons very quickly.

"I'm sorry; we ran into Dr. Ellis. He's the one who did James' hip replacement surgery. He said James did well, and he was very pleased to hear that Tom was going to be doing therapy with him," Lydia said as she and the Wilsons passed through the hospital doors.

"I'm very glad that the doctor feels that James did well," Claudia Wilson said. "When will he start therapy?"

"The thinking nowadays is to get people back on their feet…literally…as quickly as possible. So I would guess either later today or tomorrow morning."

"What? That seems awfully fast," Henry Wilson said.

"Well, you had people poking around in your heart, and I'm willing to bet you went home the next day," Lydia said. Henry nodded, realizing Lydia was right. They had reached the Wilson's car and Mr. Wilson pulled out his keys to disarm the alarm. He seemed to be having difficulty.

"Damn thing! The blasted alarm is different from the one on other car we have, and I can never get used to which button I should push." Mrs. Wilson went over to give her husband a hand; in few seconds, the alarm was off and the car was unlocked.

"He doesn't handle things too well when he has a lot on his mind," Mrs. Wilson said quietly to Lydia. "But as soon as James is back on his feet, everything will be back to normal." _It's going to take more_ _than that to get things back to normal around here,_ Lydia thought to herself. _A LOT more…_

House made his way to the lab that he and his team used exclusively. If mistakes were going to made, if screw-ups were going to happen, they were going to be confined here, not shared with the rest of the hospital community. Then again, the mistakes of the hospital techies at large wouldn't contaminate their results. He entered the lab and found Thirteen at one of the tables with a microscope, holding her head in her hands.

"I don't mind you taking a nap, but our patient is probably keen on keeping as much of his foot as possible. What have you got?" House asked as he moved next to Thirteen.

"I…I wasn't napping; I had just closed my eyes for a minute," Thirteen said with an edge in her voice. "You can take a look," she said moving aside so House could see the view in the scope. "It's not jumping out at me with anything that would make sense for the patient."

"Nothing may make sense for the patient until we find out where his lie is making its nest. I was ready to go in with a verbal machete and cut swath through to the truth with the dear Mrs. I have a feeling the wife doesn't even know what that may be," House said as he looked through the microscope. He looked for a moment, then turned to Thirteen. "Any of your doctors tell you to go get glasses?"

"No. Why would…"

"Because one of the reasons this slide doesn't make sense is you have it upside down," House said as he took the slide out and placed in its proper position. "Why have you decided to turn this place into your own personal hotel?" House moved the eye lens until it came into focus for him.

"I've had a few nights where my migraines have worn me down; I thought better safe than…"

"Vibrio!"

"Excuse me?" Thirteen asked. House pulled out the slide, and put another one on the viewing platform in its place. He again fiddled with the eye piece.

"Adjust this any way you want so you can see it;_ IF_ you can see it," House said with a certain feeling of triumph. Thirteen stepped over to the microscope; she twisted and turned the lens for several moments. "Still can't see it clearly, can you?" Thirteen controlled her tears as she stepped back.

"What is it?"

"Vibrio Vilnificus. It's a water-borne bacteria found in brackish salt water. Had one other case in the past ten years or so. This guy is how old? In his twenties?" Thirteen nodded.

"Twenty-six, with no health issues other than the recent case of poison ivy…and the fall from the ladder at work," Thirteen added in sheepishly. House eyed her up and down.

"You didn't see what Lydia wrote on the info sheet because your eyes couldn't focus on it. That's also why you wrote the information you got from the wife in print rather than script; you were afraid you wouldn't even be able to go back and read your own handwriting. And you don't have the usual doctor's scrawl. You have soft, feminine strokes to your handwriting…"

"House! Just stop being an ass and…let me help you get through this case and things with Wilson. Then I'm requesting a leave of absence." House was surprised, but held his reaction in check.

"Right now, you're more of a distraction rather than a help around here; even Lydia told me to convey her desire to help you. And what makes you think I'll OK a leave of absence?"

"Damn it, House! I know what you're trying to do! You don't need to know what's going on in my personal life; you have no right to…"

"I have every right to know what's going on when it affects your job performance." House was raising his voice; partially because he didn't need to be dealing with Thirteen's problems right now, and partially because he was genuinely concerned. Thirteen sat down on one of the stools nearest the microscope. House gave her a minute to gain her composure before he started playing inquisitor. "How much brain shrinkage has there been?" Thirteen looked at him in shock.

"How did…I shouldn't even ask; you're House," she said as she rubbed her head. "Slightly less than one percent, but it's the fact that any shrinkage has occurred that's worrisome. My doctor believes in being aggressive, which I have no problem with. There's a new treatment that's come out of Johns Hopkins and has FDA approval. My concern is that insurance may not cover it since it's so new." House took a few steps away and turned back to Thirteen.

"This set-up is so fraught with ironies it's not funny. The treatment has government approval, but insurance companies can refuse to pay for it because there isn't a history of success in the field; and of all the professionals on the face of the earth, you, a doctor has to worry about getting proper health care. Boy, does that suck." House looked at Thirteen as she sat with her head down. "What makes you think a leave of absence will help?"

"You said to me a few months back, you need Thirteen, not six point five. I don't know that if I take the treatment, I can do my job properly on a regular basis." House thought for a moment.

"The last time I gave you a leave of absence, it was so you could spend six months in jail for euthanizing your brother," House said referring to the delusion he had in the medical coma he was in after the crane collapse. "Things just went downhill from there. Get the full lowdown on what the course of treatment would entail; we'll find a way to work around it." He walked over to where she sat. "Migraines are a separate issue from the Huntington's, but the migraines are affecting your vision. When are you doing something about that?" Thirteen shook her head.

"I've had three appointments in the past month with the optician and I've had to cancel each one because I didn't feel up to driving." House nodded.

"I still don't get the nature of your relationship with Slick, and I'm not sure I want to know. I do know he'd jump through hoops for you if you'd just tell him what's going on. Which brings me to the subject of your three teammates; tell _them_ what's going on. They're worried about you. And talk to Lydia about setting up a time when she can drive you; mention the insurance situation as well. If anyone can find a way around the bureaucratic BS that goes along with the insurance industry, she can." Thirteen nodded. "Want to help me go play good doctor/bad doctor with the patient and/or his wifey-poo? I call dibs on the bad doctor role; it comes naturally to me." Thirteen managed to laugh. The whirl of a machine on another counter caught their attention.

"The re-do on the patient's blood work," Thirteen said. She pulled the sheet of paper off of the printer. Thirteen did her best to read it, but one particular reading that was designated as out of the normal parameters caught her eye. "House, check out his white cell count." House took the paper from Thirteen. The report had designated the reading as abnormally low. "He has a raging infection in the leg; even I can see that," Thirteen said. "Those numbers can't be right." House made a face.

"They shouldn't be right, but they are. We've answered the what; we now have to find out why," he said as he got the far-away look that those used to working with him knew so well. "Let's see what information we can get out of them." House started out of the lab as Thirteen grabbed the printout to include as part of the patient's chart. As they waited for the elevator, House checked the time on his cell phone; it was a few minutes before nine. The timing would work out well; he'd have time to talk to the patient and get back to Wilson before they began to move him. He sent a text to Chase, Taub and Foreman telling them to concentrate on any water rescues Kevin Sheeler had gone on; since House had identified the bacteria as vibrio, he told them to look for anything bringing him in contact with salt water in particular. The location of both of Sheeler's fire houses were too far inland for it to be a normal call, so he also clued them in to look for disasters: large fires, a natural disaster like a hurricane, a boat fire, etc. While House's natural curiosity had wanted to know exactly how and where this guy made contact with the bacteria, his biggest concern right now was why was there such an abnormality in the white cell count? In House's mind, the fall from a ladder on the job was the source of the problem; but how to connect the dots? What was this guy taking that could so alter his WBC? House could list several things, none of which would be readily available without a prescription.

"House?" Thirteen was holding the door to the elevator waiting for House to exit. He made his way off the car and started down the hallway to I.C.U. When they got to the ward, House quickly looked over the room Wilson was going into; it was perpendicular to the room where his patient was. It would make it easier to tend to both of them at once. House was pleased to see that several Geri-Chairs had already been set up. He had a feeling he was going to have company in keeping watch over Wilson: Annie and Wilson's parents were probably going to be his roommates. He hoped Wilson's dad didn't snore as badly as Annie said he did.

"Mrs. Sheeler? Hi, how are you doing?" Thirteen asked as she stepped into the room.

"Dr. Hadley? That's your name, right? I'm sorry, I'm not thinking straight right now. Kevin keeps waking up, talking for a few minutes and then falling back asleep," Susan Sheeler said.

"He's not falling asleep, he's passing out." Thirteen shot a look at House.

"Mrs. Sheeler, this is Dr. House, the head of the diagnostics team." Susan Sheeler looked up at House.

"Have you been able to figure anything out with my husband?" she asked hopefully.

"We're only part of the way there," House said as he rested his cane against the end of Kevin's bed. He picked up the sheets to look at the fireman's leg and foot. He finally had a good view of what everyone was referring to as a deflated leg; while the outer skin was just starting to deteriorate, the inner tissue was clearly gone. House became even more unhappy when he saw Kevin's toes: the pinky toe and the two next to it were rapidly progressing from livid purple to black. The remaining toe and the big toe showed slight discoloration. He replaced the sheet, and sat down in the chair nearest Susan Sheeler. "He has a bacterial infection known as Vibrio Vulnificus. While usually fatal to older people, and people with compromised immune systems, a young guy like your husband should be able to put up a better fight." Mrs. Sheeler let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, that's wonderful! So he's going to be OK?" she asked.

"You didn't listen carefully to everything I said," House said tersely. "I said he should be able to fight it off; but there's something of a mystery that we're hoping you can give us some clues to." Susan Sheeler's expression changed from joyful to scared.

"Why…why what's wrong?"

"Something is destroying your husband's immune system. Considering the type and extent of the infection he has, his white blood cell count should be through the roof. It's not…it's way below normal," House explained.

"Well, how did my husband get this bacteria? Does it have anything to do with the poison ivy he had?"

"Yes and no," Thirteen said. "The fact that he had an open wound when he came in contact with the bacteria, gave it easy access to get inside of him."

"He would not leave his leg alone!" Susan said. "I told him he should cover it, out of sight out of mind sort of approach."

"It's not just that," said Thirteen. "Years ago the thinking was to let a wound be exposed to the air, let it breathe. But what research discovered is that if you don't cover it, you're more susceptible to dirt and bacteria getting into the wound."

"Several weeks ago, your husband had a fall off a ladder at work. Has he been seeing a PT for that?" House asked. Susan Sheeler shifted her weight back and forth in her seat; she dropped her head down and wouldn't make eye contact with either Thirteen or House.

"Kevin was lucky; his fall was broken by a large set of bushes that were growing next to the house. He went to our regular doctor, but he refused to go to see a physical therapist. He was nervous about what the PT would say; if he said that Kevin couldn't work…we'd be in trouble. I already had to stop working because of complications with my pregnancy…we couldn't survive on Kevin's disability pay." Susan was doing her best not to cry.

"Mrs. Sheeler, can I get you some cold water or juice?" Thirteen asked.

"Just some water would be fine." Thirteen left the room to refill the pitcher on Kevin Sheeler's bed tray.

"How has your husband been dealing with the pain since the fall?" House inquired.

"He started out with Advil, then one of the guys at the house told him to switch to Aleve. It didn't seem to do any better for Kevin, but he's not one to take pills, so he didn't want to experiment. He said he'd just continue with the Aleve and go with it. It must be helping a little bit; he was able to go to that training seminar down south a few weeks ago." Thirteen had walked back into the room as the wife revealed that her husband had indeed traveled; just inside the US, not abroad.

"Do you know if he did any training in the Gulf of Mexico? Or did any fishing or swimming in the Gulf?" House was now tapping his cane up and down; he felt like he was near to finding an answer.

"I don't think so…the only water he mentioned was Lake Charles in Louisiana." Damn! House thought. That removes the possibility of salt water contact there. Lake Charles was fresh water.

"You said he doesn't like to take pills," House said indicating Kevin. "Any chance one of his buddies at work would help him out with his pain problem by supplying some happy stuff?"

"What? You mean like Oxycontin or Vicodin?" Susan shook her head. "I can't even get him to take vitamins. I can't swear to the fact that no one's given him anything and that he hasn't taken it; but I would be shocked."

"You wouldn't be the first unsuspecting spouse," House noted.

"Dr. House, if you can find out what's messing up his immune system…can you do anything for his toes and foot? I saw what the toes look like…"

"It's only because he came into the hospital when he did, and we got him on the right antibiotics as fast as we did, that he's going to live," House said seeing the terrified look in Susan's eyes. "Normally, the antibiotics would be aided by the body's immune system; since he has very little left, if he has any by the time this is all over…we'll see how much of his leg we can save," House grimly said as he stood up.

"No...No! Kevin's the third generation in his family to be a firefighter…it's all he knows," Susan Sheeler said as she sobbed. "He's strong, trains for work all the time; he's the youngest decorated firefighter in the department's history…"

"He's got to be a tough guy to be in his line of work," House said. "It takes a certain kind of craziness to do that job. He'll find a way." House turned and headed for the door of the room; he pulled out his phone and saw it was nine-thirty. Almost time to begin the Wilson parade. House became aware of Thirteen coming alongside him.

"So other than the training trip to Louisiana, nothing new," Thirteen said.

"That and the fact the guy wouldn't take a pill even if you put a gun to his head," said House sounding disgusted. "The guy can't be getting through the pain from the fall just on sheer will. Either there's something the wife isn't telling us, or something he isn't telling the wife." They reached the elevators, and as House was about to push the call button, he got a text:

_Hi, Hon! Got your clothes and some things for Annie and James. Should I meet you at your office?_

House replied in the affirmative; he would let Lydia know what they found out on "her" case when he saw her. He and Thirteen stepped into the elevator when it arrived and took it up to the fourth floor. As they got nearer his office, House saw that the Wilson fan club had relocated to his conference room. Not only were Taub, Chase, and Foreman in there, so were Wilson's parents, Tom and Slick. He also saw that the food from Cheery Valley had moved in as well; it was fine with House since he was getting hungry again.

"Hi," Lydia said. She had been in House's office, but now came out to greet him. "The guys told me you had figured something out with the case, but they wouldn't tell me what. They said that privilege should go to you." House passed by Lydia, went into his office and grabbed his red mug. He made his way over to the coffee urn and started to pour himself a cup.

"Vibrio," he said as he stirred the drink.

"VibrioVulnificus?" Lydia said with surprise. House turned and leaned against counter by the coffee maker.

"Keep going," he said as he took a sip from his mug. Lydia thought for a moment.

"It's a waterborne bacteria, usually brackish salt water…he's a young man!" Lydia said, changing her train of thought. "He's on cephalosporin and doxycycline. Those two should fight the bacteria with no problem."

"It's a problem if the meds are getting no help from the body's immune system," House said. "His immune system's trashed. Right now finding out why would just fit the last piece into the puzzle."

"Is he going to die?" asked Claudia Wilson. House dropped his head down.

"No; the question is how much of his leg is going to die. Hopefully we can keep the amputation below the knee joint." Annie came into the conference room just in time to hear House's dire pronouncement for the young father-to-be. She had gotten changed into leggings and an oversized sweatshirt that Lydia had brought to her.

"Greg, I'm so sorry about your patient," Annie said as she came over to Lydia. "He came to the hospital too late to get help it sounds."

"It wouldn't have been too late if he didn't try to medicate himself," House said.

"House, we can't prove that," Foreman said.

"Yet," House replied.

"Well, we're not going to find out anything from the firehouse where he works," Chase noted. "All requests for information have to be in writing and submitted to the superintendent's office. I told them the urgency of the situation…I was simply given the address to send the letter to."

"Doesn't surprise me," Slick said. "However, firefighters like cops are a brotherhood. You can probably get information out of one of his house mates…off the record, of course. Let me try to look a few things up…" Slick said as he worked the buttons on his cell phone.

"Maybe we can ask Mrs. Sheeler for a few names," Lydia suggested. "If we stress that his co-workers would be talking off the record, perhaps some information can come from there."

"Worth a shot," House said. "Let me get changed into normal clothing; I'll meet you back here so we can form the conga line to bring Wilson to I.C.U." House took the things Lydia was holding out to him. He smiled when he saw she chose the Rolling Stones T-shirt she had bought for him when they first got back together. She also brought a white button down shirt and a gray tweed jacket plus jeans; that, plus his sneakers, and he would look like House again. In a matter of a few minutes, he was leading the crew down to recovery; there was no need for all of them to go, but they wanted to. As they arrived at the doors, House knew everyone couldn't go in.

"Fraulein, Songbird…you two come with me. The rest of you wait here; parade will be starting shortly." He pushed the door open and saw a sight that made him smile: Wilson was awake, sitting up, and talking to the nurse, Alicia who was taking care of him.

"Hey, look who's here," Alicia said.

"Finally; I was wondering where the hell you were," Wilson said. He looked Annie up and down. "You look much more normal now; it looks like you've even combed your hair." Wilson cringed and put his hand up to his head.

"It is so much fun hearing you sound like me," House said with an exaggerated smile.

"Well it's not fun for me; I don't like hearing myself sound like you," Wilson said. Seeing Lydia had changed into dress pants, a silk blouse and a jacket, Wilson smiled. "I see you're back to your usual professional, beautiful self," he noted. "As opposed to your boyfriend who would never think to put on a suit and tie to come to work."

"I would, but I wouldn't want you or Foreman to accuse me of being a copycat," House said. Wilson gave him a look, then closed his eyes.

"House, is there any way I can get something to eat when I get up to I.C.U.? Don't mean to be a pain, but I'm starting to get some pains in my stomach, it's so empty."

"We can get you something; it'll still be mainly liquids, but maybe we can sneak a few solids in. You can have some juice before the MRI, the rest will have to wait until you get back," said House glancing up at the monitor. Everything still looked good. He couldn't hide a smile as he looked at Wilson's Foley bag.

"How's it looking?" Wilson asked anxiously.

"Less like beef broth and more like strong tea," noted House. "You've got a ways to go, but soon your pee will be back to its usual sunny yellow. I'm going to check your chart." House went over to the nurses' station; Alicia had seen him coming and had Wilson's chart waiting.

"He had a good rest," she said. "He didn't wake up until nine-fifteen."

"Wish I could say that," House said. Wilson's readings were all good in the two hours or so since he had last seen him. House authorized Wilson's release from recovery and transfer to the I.C.U. He returned over to Wilson's bedside. "Just signed your get out jail free card. I see your orderlies are here to handle your float."

"House, Lydia was just telling me about that fireman that came in to the clinic. Vibrio? In someone that young…"

"I know," House said cutting him off. "I've been over this too many times in my head. It's not even that he waited too long to come in; it's whatever he did to self-medicate that's proving his downfall."

"I'm really sorry," Wilson said. "Despite what you say, you really do care about the well-being of all of your patients; but one with a leg injury hits really close to home." House looked down and away from Wilson.

"Yeah, it does." The orderlies came over with Wilson's chart in tow; Alicia did the final unhooking from the monitor.

"Good luck, Dr. Wilson," she said.

"Thanks," he said giving a wave. When the stretcher came through the door into the hallway, everyone gathered outside started to applaud. "Oh, please…no…give it a break!" Wilson protested. He high-fived Taub, Chase, and Foreman, and took a kiss from Thirteen. "Thanks for your help," he said. Wilson rolled his eyes at his parents as each came forward for hugs and kisses. He shook hands with Slick and turned to Tom as he stepped forward. "I hear we're going to be spending a lot of time together," Wilson noted.

"Yes, we are," Tom answered as they shook hands. They had to take two elevators up to I.C.U. and all of them obviously couldn't stay in Wilson's room. So, House, Annie and Lydia stayed with Wilson; once he was set, they could rotate out, and let Wilson's parents come in.

"I'm going to go check on Kevin Sheeler," Thirteen said.

"Tell Mrs. Sheeler I'll come by in a little while and say hi," Lydia said. She watched as they hooked Wilson up to the monitor in his new location. House had dropped off Wilson's chart with instructions to set him up for the MRI once he had signed the consent.

"Here, I'll let you do this," House said handing a container of apple juice to Annie.

"Oh…I love you," Wilson said.

"I know you do," House said. "You ought to tell Annie you feel the same way." The four of them smiled at each other.

"This is now getting back to normal," Annie said as she offered her boyfriend the straw.

"House? We have a problem." Thirteen stood at the door to Wilson's room. "It seems Kevin Sheeler woke up briefly; after his wife clued him in as to what was going on with him, he told his wife he doesn't want us going in their house. He's unconscious now, but…"

"Let me guess," House said. "They want their keys back."


	11. Chapter 11

Life and Limb

Chapter Eleven – "Life Could be a Dream"

By: purpleu

"Get the team," House said to Thirteen. "Time to stop playing nice and gang up on the patient."

"I'm going to go for a little bit; that way your parents can come in," Annie said to Wilson.

"Oh, please don't leave me alone with them; I can't deal with them right now," Wilson pleaded.

"Stop being a baby," House said to Wilson. "She can stay. I'm going to be talking with my team over at the nurses' station; Fraulein, since he's unofficially your patient, you should be there, too," House said as he tapped his cane handle into his hand. He was leaning against a wall, so there was no danger of him falling; he'd take all the support he could get right about now.

"Greg, there's a limit on the number of visitors a patient can have in I.C.U….you know that as well as I do," Lydia said.

"Sorry, following rules and regulations was never one of my strong points; or did I forget to tell you that when we first met?"

"No, it was quite easy to figure out on my own," she said in reply. Lydia looked to her left and saw that almost all of House's team was at the nurses' station. House saw them too and left the room silently.

"This is the last thing he needs," Lydia said shaking her head.

"Has he heard anything else about his mother?" Annie asked. Lydia took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"You two didn't hear the news he got last night. You were with James' parents," she said indicating Annie. "And you hadn't come out of the anesthesia," Lydia said to Wilson. She explained how House found out that John House had tried to kill him and his mother and that his mother was victim of domestic violence.

"You're right…I always remember Blythe in pants when she came to visit, even in the hottest weather. I can't swear to the long sleeves, but…" Wilson shook his head. "So House…is the offspring…of a religious man? Ho Ho! That is the biggest oxymoron I've ever heard of."

"James, we don't know for sure yet, and I don't know how Greg wants to handle it," Lydia said. She related the possibility that Blythe had been raped at a party she went to; the question of who House's father was lingered and hovered in the back of his mind.

"He didn't take it well, I'm sure," said Annie looking at Wilson who was shaking his head.

"I…feel so damn helpless just…being stuck like this. I can't even say to him, let's go grab some wings and a few beers at lunch. Not that it's something I would normally do," Wilson explained. "But in this case…I would make an exception. House needs a break."

"He…became physically ill," Lydia said, making sure she kept her voice low enough that House couldn't hear her. She had told the team in the middle of the night about House's mother; she didn't tell them his reaction to it. That she wanted to keep between the four of them.

"House still looks like hell, just like I said earlier," Wilson began, "His leg is really killing him, isn't it? I can tell by the look on his face, the way he's leaning on his cane. I saw the palm of his hand was beet red when he was waving it aroundouse House couldn't hear herHHBH

. House is wearing down…mentally as well as physically. He's…" Wilson took a deep breath. "He's going to reach a breaking point," he said to Lydia. "It's going to come sooner rather than later…and it won't be pretty."

"I know," Lydia said looking out to where House was standing waiting for all of his team to show up. "I'm trying to prepare myself for it when the time comes. Let me go out to the team and see what I can do." Lydia turned to Annie. "Why don't you get James' parents so they can spend a little bit of time with him before he goes for the MRI? Tell Slick and Tom they can come in too. We'll figure out a way to rotate everyone around." Annie nodded, gave Wilson a quick kiss and scurried out the door before he could once again protest his parents coming in. Lydia got over to House just as Chase joined the group; the team was all there.

"So, the patient doesn't want us to go into his house; which means he's got something there he doesn't want us to find," House said frowning. "His secret stash of fill-in-the-blank is there somewhere and we've got to find it before it takes all of his leg and more."

"House, you're still working on the theory that this guy took something that made his immune system crash," Foreman said. "What if that's not the case?"

"All the more reason to find out as quickly as possible," Lydia said. "His wife is four months pregnant; if this is some kind of genetic disorder…

"Or something communicable…" interjected Taub.

"All perfectly insane choices," House said interrupting the chain of theories.

"Why are they insane?" Chase asked. "If the wife says he won't even take vitamins, why are you assuming that he's self-medicating?" House looked away and let out a deep breath.

"For now it's just a hunch," he said wearily. Lydia saw that the fight, the spark that House usually brought to a case just wasn't there; he was too tired to try. She looked down the hall and saw the Wilsons approaching with Annie; Slick and Tom were behind them. They were all good hearted lovely people, but Lydia knew they were the last thing that House needed right now.

"Why don't I try to talk to Mrs. Sheeler again? I got on with her well when I met her in the middle of the night. And I did get her set up in her husband's room when the nurse wouldn't let her stay. It might be worth a try." The team looked at House for confirmation that this was a good idea.

"Five minutes of honey," he said. "Then out comes the vinegar." The group headed into Kevin Sheeler's room; Susan Sheeler looked startled and scared when she saw the number of people coming into her husband's hospital quarters.

"He's…he's going to die, isn't he?" she asked as tears formed in her eyes. "No, please…help him…I don't want my child to grow up not knowing his or her father." She broke down crying as she watched House pick up the sheet and take another look at Kevin's leg; in just the hour since House had been in the room, the two toes that showed a little discoloration had turned darker, and the top of the foot from side to side was starting to discolor, too. Things were moving along too rapidly.

"I can't prevent your husband from losing some part of his foot or leg; but I might be able to give you some peace of mind," House said as he replaced the sheet. "If we can know for sure that your husband was a moron who tried to solve his problem by himself, I can at least assure you that it's not something that you or your baby will be in danger of contracting or inheriting." House knew there wasn't a chance of that, but he threw it out there to rattle the wife.

"How can I do that?" Susan asked.

"By letting us find the one thing he doesn't want us to find," House said. "His stash." Susan started to shake her head.

"When he woke up before, he specifically said no doctors poking around in the house," she said sniffling. "I have to respect his wishes."

"Even if his wishes are incredibly stupid?" Chase asked. "If we can't define what's happening to your husband, we won't be able to help him."

"Besides, your husband seems very adamant about hiding something from you," noted Taub. "Wouldn't you want to know what it is? Especially if it could save not just his leg but his life?" Lydia had been standing behind Susan Sheeler who sat in a Geri-chair by her husband's bedside.

"Susan," Lydia said crouching down next to her. "I know this baby means the world to you and Kevin. You told me earlier you've been dating since seventeen, married at twenty-one and you two have always talked about having a family. It's very important to the both of you. I also understand that you want to respect his wishes. But he doesn't know how adversely his refusal to let us help him is going to be for you and the baby." Lydia opened her mouth to continue, then thought of another approach to the situation. "What exactly did Kevin say to you before?" Susan shrugged her shoulders.

"That he didn't want any doctors poking around in his house." Lydia tried not to smile too obviously as she looked over at House and the team.

"Susan…I'm not a doctor. I'm the head of the insurance billing department. I do work with Dr. House and his team in the clinic so I can complete my Bachelor's degree, but I'm not a doctor; you wouldn't be ignoring your husband's wishes if I went over and took a look around." Susan Sheeler looked confused and upset as she looked back and forth between her husband and Lydia; she knew that what Lydia was saying wasn't really what Kevin wanted. She also knew, however, that she had no other choice.

"The big, round key is for the front door, the smaller, round key is for the side door facing the driveway." Lydia reached over and squeezed Susan's hand.

"I'll bring the keys back as quickly as I can," Lydia said trying to reassure the woman. She stood up and headed out the door; Lydia stopped briefly at the nurses' station to get the Sheeler's address from Kevin's chart.

"I don't believe what you just did," Foreman said as he watched Lydia go behind the counter and retrieve the information she needed.

"What? Prove once again why Greg likes to keep me around?" Lydia asked as she put the address into her Blackberry. She looked over at House with a twinkle in her eyes; not only had she found a way to probably get what they needed to help the patient, but she did it in perfect Housian style. She was also glad to see House look a little less stressed out.

"Your body is why I keep you around; your mind is why I bother to actually talk to you," House said. His back was to his team, so he blocked their view of Lydia as she stuck her tongue out at him. "Promises, promises," he said in reply to the gesture.

"I'm going to get over the Sheeler's to see what I can find. I just have to get my pocketbook out of your office," she said to House.

"Since this is your deflowering when it comes to search and seizure in a patient's house, I'll take a walk with you so I can explain proper procedure." Lydia rolled her eyes.

"There's actually a procedure on how to break into someone's house?" she questioned.

"You're not breaking in; you have the keys. Think of it more as a list of suggestions on where to look for pills that someone doesn't want you to find."

"Hmm…think I've taken that seminar already," Lydia said as she winked at the team and took a few steps down the hall.

"Hold the elevator; I'll be right there," House called out. He stepped into Wilson's room.

"Did I hear you say that you're sending Lydia to break into someone's house?" Wilson asked incredulously. "I swear, House, you're going to ruin that woman."

"On the contrary…I'm giving her the time of her life." House saw Chase come in carrying a clipboard.

"I have the paperwork here for you to sign, Wilson. We're doing an MRI with contrast…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know the routine; hearing you say it with your Aussie accent isn't going to make it any more pleasant," Wilson sniped as he took the clipboard.

"Get him set up; I'll be back in a few minutes," House said to Chase. As House was about to leave, he stopped and looked at Tom. "Thought you had patients to see this morning."

"I did; my appointments start at eight remember? Saw three patients, one cancelled." House shook his head.

"People who are willing to get up at that hour to have you torture them, need therapy of a different kind." House left Wilson's room and hurried as fast as he could to the elevators. Lydia was still standing there, tapping her foot impatiently.

"I swear the more I roam around this hospital, the more problems I find with things," Lydia said as the elevator finally arrived and they stepped in. "I saw this yesterday. Look at the maintenance record for this elevator car. It hasn't been checked in two months. State safety requirements say once a month." She looked at House and saw he was looking at the floor and suppressing a smile. "Don't you dare say a word about me running the hospital or anything else like that. I have a hard enough time dealing with my life the way it is." The elevator doors opened allowing House and Lydia to step off; suddenly, Lydia heard a thud. When she turned to see what the noise was, she found House on the floor, cursing under his breath. She saw the door was about to close on House's foot, so Lydia ran over and quickly put her hand in the way of the door sensor to prevent it from closing, She crouched down, grabbed a hold of House's pants leg, and moved his leg away from the opening.

"You need any help?" a passing orderly asked.

"I'm fine!" House said harshly, waving the young man away. He looked at Lydia. "You been working out or something? You stopped my foot from being eaten by the elevator pretty easily." House got to his knees, leaned on his cane, and stood up.

"I work out with you each time you have therapy," Lydia reminded him. "Adrenaline helped in this case, too." She sighed as she watched him go down the hall to his office; to those who didn't know House very well, he looked like a man with a limp. To those who knew him and had actually been aware of the progress he had made with Tom, he looked like he took a few hundred steps backward. They reached his office; Lydia decided she'd risk pissing House off and try once again to make him get some rest. "You're lucky I was with you just now…when you fell."

"I would have gotten back up on my own," House said, refusing to look at her as he headed out of his office, his red mug in hand.

"Where are you going?"

"To the little boys' room…want to help me hold anything?" House asked. "If you must now, I'm going to pee, and then wash out my coffee mug. Figured I might as well kill two birds with one well thrown rock." Lydia wanted to make one last try to get him to realize the position he was in: near exhaustion.

"If the elevator refused to let go, you would have had a problem," Lydia noted. House stopped, turned and gave her a hard look.

"I've dealt with my leg and the problems it causes in my life on my own for years; I don't need any help." House pushed open the door and disappeared inside the rest room. Lydia turned back to House's office. She knew he was right, at least partially. He had dealt with the leg on his own for years. It was the alone part that led to so much of the anger and bitterness that House held on to. As far as not needing any help? There he was wrong…very, very wrong. It was the fact that he had started to learn how to open up and accept help that was allowing him to enjoy the people and things in his immediate surroundings just a little bit more. Lydia took her pocketbook out from under House's desk; she was startled to see House standing in the doorway.

"Hey…sorry if I came on a little heavy before," House said quietly as he stepped inside of his office. "I'm…" Lydia came over and stood close to him without making it look like any funny business was going on.

"Greg, you're reaching a breaking point. If you don't take a step back, a significant one, somewhere along the line, you'll be lying in one of the beds around here as a patient. It's going to take a little while to get the saline into James for the MRI; you don't have to keep him company while all that's happening. The little bit of rest you get could get you through until later tonight when you can get a good night's sleep."

"Tonight's not going to be any better," House said as he crossed through the conference room to get some coffee. "No matter how tired I am, I can never sleep in those damn Geri-chairs."

"By tonight, you'll know where James stands with the frontal cortex issue; I'm hoping that it's just swelling, and then you can get some sleep at home." House shook his head as he poured his coffee.

"Even if it's just swelling, there's still danger to his brain until it goes down," House said as he put his cup on the table. "And why do I have the feeling that idiot firefighter is going to give us and his wife a hard time once we find the hidden relic and save his life?" House picked up his cup, returned to his office, took his mail and threw it in his waste basket.

"Is he still in danger of dying? I thought…"

"His life, meaning his livelihood is already trashed; I don't think the wife realizes that the fire department is never going to let him climb a ladder or man a hose again. Right now, he's probably going to lose his foot through his ankle; if we keep it below the knee, he'll be lucky. As far as actually being alive…he'll make it as long as he doesn't waste his time arguing and yelling at us and his wife." Lydia shook her head.

"I'm going to get out of here; the sooner I can come back with something, the faster we can move forward to help him." She laid the Sheeler's keys on House's desk and took out her own. "Promise you'll try to close your eyes for a little bit; and eat something." Lydia gave House a quick peck on the cheek. "Oh, I almost forgot." Lydia reached into her bag and pulled out a small plastic bag of pills. "I realized you didn't take your medicine last night or this morning…maybe that will help a little." House took the bag; he hadn't asked for them, although he meant to. Lydia was amazing as usual; she just noticed things and took care of what was needed to be done.

"Thanks. They'll get me through an hour or two," he said opening the bag, spilling the pills into his hand and downing them all in one gulp. He washed them down with a drink of coffee. Lydia laughed and closed her eyes.

"Most doctors would disapprove of the way you take your pills," she noted as she picked up the Sheeler's keys.

"Most doctors have their heads up their asses when it comes to pills," House noted.

"I'll be back soon," Lydia said as she ran out of House's office. He didn't dare sit down; he was afraid he wouldn't get back up. House wanted to give Lydia a few minutes to get downstairs and out of the building so she wouldn't see him park himself back in Wilson's room. Taking her advice, he went over to the last of the food from Cherry Valley Deli and grabbed three mini muffins that were there. He couldn't tell what flavors they were and he didn't care; they were food. He took several large gulps from his mug, and then headed out to go back to Wilson. When House got down to the second floor, and nearer Wilson's room, he realized there were more people in there then would normally be allowed by the nurses; a lot more. He stood in the doorway and saw that Lydia was in there along with the Wilsons, Annie, his team, Slick and Tom.

"What the hell is going on?" All turned to look at House. "I thought you were leaving to go the patient's house," House said to Lydia in an annoyed voice.

"I ran into Mr. Wilson in the elevator…" Lydia started to explain. House saw by the look in her eyes that Wilson's dad had caught her off guard and for once her diplomatic skills didn't work. "He invited me to be a part of this special prayer service for James." House did nothing to hide his distaste for the concept; he rolled his eyes and shook his head with no attempt at concealment.

"I was just about to have Annie or Lydia call you," Henry Wilson said. "I know that doctors aren't necessarily men and women of religion; you put your faith in science."

"With good reason," House said. Henry nodded.

"We are not a religious family, but our parents were and raised us with a good understanding of Hebrew," Henry said indicating his wife and himself. "Many years ago when my father was very sick, he asked that I read this prayer at his bedside," Mr. Wilson said holding up a piece of paper. "I wanted to read this now…for James…and give any of James' friends who would like to share this with us, a chance to be here. If anyone is uncomfortable with this, and would like to leave the room, we understand completely." House could see that Wilson had a funny look on his face; he couldn't tell if he was annoyed by his father's intention to pray for him or if he was OK with it. "This is a prayer that is always said in Hebrew; I'll give you a rough English translation afterwards." Henry Wilson looked around at everyone. "Greg, forgive me if I'm being presumptuous, but if you'd like to leave," he looked over at his son. "I'm sure it would be OK."

"I want to leave," House said as he leaned against the wall. "But at the risk of being shunned for life…I'll stay put." He looked over at Wilson and saw the wide-eyed shock written on his friend's face. "Just don't expect me to lead the chorus of 'huzzahs' at the end of everything." House was becoming more uncomfortable by the second. "Come on, let's get this going; she has a house to break into," House said indicating Lydia. She smiled and moved next to House; she reached down and took his hand. Henry Wilson nodded and began:

"_Mi sheberech avoteinu vaemoteinu Abraham Itzhak VeYaakov, Moshe VeAharon, David VeShlomo, Sara Rivka Rachel VeLeah, Hu yevarech Vayerapeh et kol holeinu____James Evan Wilson____ben __Henry Samuel Wilson____hazkookim le'refooah shlema, ba'avoor she'anachnoo mitpalelim le'hachlamatam. Besahar ze ha'kadosh baruch hu, hu yemaleh rachamin aleihem lehachliman velerefooatam ulehachzikam ulehachyotam va'yishlach lahem mehera refuah shlema min ha'shamaim, im kol holei Israel, refuat ha'nephesh u'refuat ha'guf, heshetah be'aglah u'bizman kariv va'nomar Amen."_ House looked over at the bed; Wilson's parents were holding his right hand, Annie his left. All were crying.

"I remember when you said that for Grandpa," Wilson said. "I…I never thought you'd be saying it for me." House went back to staring at the floor; he understood none of what Wilson's father just said. He understood even less his friend's emotional reaction to it…Wilson had tears coming down his face as his parents and Annie each gave him a kiss.

"Mr. Wilson, could you please tell us the translation?" Lydia asked. She was at once, both curious and anxious to get going.

"Oh…oh yes, I'm sorry," Henry Wilson said as he wiped his eyes. "The one who blessed our fathers and mothers…Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Moses and Aaron, David and Solomon, Sarah, Rachel and Leah…he shall bless and heal all of the ailments of James Evan Wilson son of Henry Samuel Wilson who needs healing. In exchange, the blessed holy one shall…show mercy on them and shall heal and give strength… bless all of the ill and sick in Israel with a healthy soul and a healthy body. And we say Amen." While House couldn't agree with the idea of praying to…nothing…he couldn't dispute the sentiment of wanting Wilson to get better and get back to being Wilson. Although watching him kick himself in the ass over his truthful outbursts was worth the price of admission.

"Mr. Wilson, that was beautiful," Lydia said as she went over and gave a kiss to Wilson's parents. "I know that between the great care and smart medicine being given to James," she said as she looked at House and his team. "And your prayers to heaven, he'll be up and around very soon." Diplomatic skills back in full gear, House noted.

"I…I have to admit I'm more than a bit…nervous…over the thought of standing on this thing," Wilson said indicating his hip.

"Wilson, I'm going to give you a couple of hours, maybe a little more," Tom said. "We won't do anything until you get back from the MRI. Since that's non-invasive it won't stress you out and you'll be able to stand up and sit a few times; then you'll take some steps." Tom saw the terrified look in Wilson's eyes. "You had damage to one artery and you're missing equipment from your left leg," Tom said referring to the saphenous vein removed to patch Wilson up. "We've got to get you up and moving to keep the blood flow good. They did an x-ray on you while you were in recovery; your hip couldn't be any more perfectly placed. I'm not surprised considering you had Ellis doing the operation; he is amazing with what I've seen him do with hip replacements and other orthopedic work, too. But you have got to get up and moving."

"Just because you can run with those things," Wilson said indicating Tom's legs. "Doesn't mean I can walk with this." Wilson pulled the sheet back to try and take a look at his hip, but his medical gown covered it.

"Yet," Annie said. "Lydia goes to Greg's therapy workouts, I can go to yours, too." Wilson smiled and nodded.

"Well, let me try one more time to get out of here; I'll call if I find anything," Lydia said. She left the room, determined not to let anyone slow her up. Taub had left the room to get Wilson's first bag of saline. He now hung it up on the rolling IV pole, set it into the pump mechanism and removed the hook up that was already there. He started this one fresh, so that the volume of fluid could be accurately measured.

"You going to stay here, House?" Chase asked.

"Yeah. Leave the other bag with the nurses. I'll hang it when this one empties," he said.

"One of us will be floating around here to keep an eye on the other patient," Foreman said. "Although, at this point there's not much to do for him."

"I sure hope Lydia can find something over there," Taub said. "I know she's trying to help the wife out, but as we always say about a second set of eyes…"

"She'll be fine. She's got two kids and she deals with me; handling deceitful behavior is second nature to her," House said as he sat down in a Geri-chair and closed his eyes.

"Her children seemed lovely," Claudia Wilson said. "And if you're lying to her, you ought to be ashamed of yourself." House reached behind his back and pulled out the blanket that had been left in the chair. He spread it out over himself all the way to the top of his head.

"Yes, I have lied to the fair and beautiful Fraulein; sometimes that's the only way to win a poker hand," he answered without moving the blanket.

"You've lied to her about plenty of other stuff I'm sure," Wilson said. House pulled the blanket down; he thought for a moment.

"No…no I haven't." House almost seemed disappointed by his truthfulness. It was contrary to his favorite theory; everybody lies.

"You must have lied to her at some point when you were at Mayfield," Foreman said. Annie was shaking her head.

"One of the things that Lydia told me when she decided to join me in coming back to New Jersey," Annie said. "Is that Greg never lied to her about anything serious. He would joke around, but after what she had been through, it was very important to her that he gave her the respect of being honest. Even when he 'stole' her car to take Steve out to have some fun, he told her exactly what he intended to do; didn't lie, didn't try to fake her out." House realized that everyone was looking at him. He threw the blanket back over his head.

"Time for my nap," House said as his mind wandered back to when he and Lydia had been together at Mayfield. Hidden under the blanket he started to smile at the memories from back then; without a doubt, she was the only thing that kept him sane…then and now. Just as he was starting to relax, the image of that SOB holding a gun to Lydia's head wavered before him. House closed his eyes, hoping that he could make it stop. The horrific sight eventually faded, but not before it scared House, scared him as much as if he had been standing there next to Lydia. And that was at the heart of why this was all replaying in his mind. He could have told his team to do the initial work-up on the fireman; if anything was unusual, they would've called him. He could have left with Lydia, been there with her, protected her, helped Wilson protect Annie…but instead he let what always took priority for him get in the way: House let the puzzle take his attention, front and center, and let human contact and interaction take a back seat. Only this time, it wasn't that he was late to meet them, or that they chose the bottle of wine without him…this could have taken either Lydia or Wilson away from him. Annie, too. She had a soft spot for House and tried to understand him from the beginning because he helped to bring her back to the living. In spending time with her over the past few months he found her to be as smart and fun as Lydia. The four of them had become very close, closer than House thought he could ever be with people. And they were the only ones he knew he could trust. House shook all these thoughts off and forced himself to try and get some rest. He hoped that Lydia could come back with some kind of clue to help the patient…

Lydia let herself in through the driveway entrance of the Sheeler's house; it was a little more secluded, partially hidden by bushes. She was about to put her purse on the counter, but thought better of it in case she had to make a hasty exit; Lydia realized that thought was ridiculous. She was here with the Sheeler's permission, so there was no problem…in theory. All she needed was for some nosy neighbor to call the police. Lydia shook her head; she really wished she had Taub or one of the other team members with her right now. They were used to doing this after working for House for so long; she was not. Lydia tried to shake off all other thoughts and concentrate on why she was here. Her first thought in searching out the medicine, was to look where anything else, even over the counter meds might be kept. The best place to hide a tree was in a forest, Lydia thought. Knowing that she kept vitamins and a small bottle of Advil in one of her kitchen cabinets, she began there. Opening door after door, and finding nothing, she was discouraged thinking that she had wasted her time which right now was precious to her. The longer it took to find what Kevin Sheeler had been taking, the more his leg would deteriorate. Finally, she opened the cabinet door closest to the hallway, and found several bottles inside. Lydia quickly looked through the content of the cabinet: Natalins pregnancy vitamins, a prescription for folic acid issued to Susan, a bottle of Tylenol. Nothing for Kevin, no mystery pills.

Next Lydia looked through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, but there was nothing exciting there. Some Band-Aids, some first aid cream, toothpaste, mouthwash, razor blades…nothing outstanding. She went to the night stands in Susan and Kevin's bedroom and looked through them; again no luck. Lydia started to look in some of the places House told her he used to stash his Vicodin: shoes, sock drawer, underwear drawer. She checked all the pockets of the duffle bag that held things that Kevin took to work with him…zilch, zippo, nada. A thought suddenly occurred to Lydia and she went back to the bathroom. When House was delusional after the crane collapse, he imagined that he had hidden some Vicodin in the wall behind the medicine cabinet. She certainly wasn't strong enough to pull the cabinet down, nor did she want to cause that kind of damage to the Sheeler's house, but maybe…

Lydia opened the door to the sink cabinet; there were mainly just cleaning supplies and sponges under the sink along with the pipes that brought in the hot and cold water, and drained out the sink. She felt all around, getting more discouraged by the minute…until finally, her hand touched something. She felt around the back of the sink bowl that extended into the cabinet; there was a plastic box and what felt like tape. Lydia pulled the tape away, and the plastic box fell onto the base of the cabinet. She quickly opened it up, and was puzzled by what she found. There were three brown glass bottles with droppers; two were sealed, one was almost empty. Lydia opened the unsealed bottle, and took a whiff; nothing distinctive to her about the smell. She took a tissue from the box on the sink counter, and place a drop on it; again nothing out of the ordinary in appearance. Whatever this was, someone didn't want it to be found. Lydia decided to make a call to House; if he thought this was just strange, rather than an answer, she'd keep looking. As she took out her phone and hit speed dial, she remembered something that Susan said, that made her all the more sure she had found something important.

House was in a deep sleep; it was good, something he needed. But he didn't get nearly enough when his phone started to ring. Recognizing that it was Lydia by her ringtone "Edelweiss," House quickly pushed the button to answer the call.

"Did you have to call just now? I was having the naughtiest dream about you and me; you'll never guess what we were doing." House flipped the blanket off his head and was startled to see he was in Wilson's room. Wilson's parents were there as was Annie; they had all fallen asleep along with Wilson. House blinked his eyes a few times and focused on the IV bag of saline; it was almost to the end, but not in danger of emptying.

"I can imagine what we were doing; maybe in a day or so, we'll be able to actually put those thoughts into action." House had started to stand up, but stopped when he heard Lydia's words.

"What did you find?" he asked quickly. Lydia told him about the secret stash hidden under the sink cabinet.

"But they're not pills; it's liquid. A slightly sweet odor and a clear appearance; but with three bottles…"

"He probably had more than that. He bought it in quantity, and in case it worked he'd have back up. What does it taste like?" Lydia took the phone away from her head and looked at it as if House was crazy.

"You want me to put this stuff in my mouth when I don't even know what it is? Your team is right…you are insane!" House was glad they were talking on the phone and not in person; if she was with him she'd see him chuckling.

"My team does what I need them to do to solve a case," House said, his stern voice hiding the look on his face. "You do want to become a part of my team, don't you?" Lydia sighed.

"I want to live to see my kids grow up," she replied.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you do. Put a drop on your fingertip and put it on your tongue." Lydia did as House directed.

"Like the aroma, slightly sweet; no discernable medicinal taste or smell. It's not altogether unpleasant." House thought for a moment, the smile disappearing; but a sly, wicked grin came over his face the more he thought.

"Get back here with it as fast as you can so we can run it through the lab. Bring all the bottles," House said energized by Lydia's find. "Fraulein?"

"Yes?" Lydia questioned as she put back the items from under the sink that she had moved out of her way.

"Wilson and everyone else around here are right; you hang around me too much. You never should have found that so quickly," House said as he made his way to the nurses' station.

"But isn't helping the patient and figuring out the puzzle what it's all about? Besides, by finding this, I may have removed one of the obstacles preventing us from having some time to ourselves," Lydia said.

"Leave it to you to put a positive spin on things," House said. "I'll see you in a little bit." He got to the nurses' station and saw Wilson's second saline bag on top of his chart. "I'm here to claim ownership of that IV bag and make note of it in Dr. Wilson's chart," he said to the nurse sitting behind the counter.

"I was told to give this to a member of Dr. House's team," the nurse replied, eyeing up House suspiciously. House knew she was in for a surprise.

"I'm not a member of Dr. House's team; I _am_ Dr. House," he explained. "Now let me have the bag and the chart so I can hook Dr. Wilson up before he runs dry." House made a move to go behind the counter; the nurse stood up to block House's way.

"I can't let you just take this; if you're Dr. House, where's your ID?" House gave the nurse a look; she was young, probably on the ICU floor for the first time. In all his time up there, he had never seen her before.

"Page Dr. Chase to come to the floor; you'll thank me later." The nurse kept her gaze on House as she looked up Chase's pager number and put the call in. In a few minutes, Chase appeared in the hallway.

"House, what's going on?" he asked as he neared the counter. House turned to the nurse, who looked completely flustered. Whether it was because she was embarrassed at not believing House or the wonderfulness that was Dr. Robert Chase, House neither knew nor cared.

"I'm sorry, Dr. House. You really should have your ID badge with you," the girl said handing him the saline bag and the chart.

"And he should dress more like a doctor…like I do," Chase said giving the girl a smile. House rolled his eyes as he notated Wilson's chart.

"Despite my appearance, I'm going to go do medical stuff to Wilson." Chase barely noticed what House said as he turned on the charm and engaged the young nurse in conversation. House went back into Wilson's room and tried to plan the best way to approach the IV hook-up. The Wilsons were asleep in chairs at the end of Wilson's bed; Annie had moved her chair alongside Wilson's bed. She was resting her head on a pillow draped over the side rail of the bed with Wilson's hand resting on her head. Best thing to do, House decided was to step over the Wilson's legs, and gain access to the IV pole that way. He didn't really trust his legs to be steady enough, but going slowly and carefully, he made it over to the right side of Wilson's bed. He unhooked the nearly empty IV bag, set up the new bag to filter through the pump, and checked the flow of the fluid in the tube.

"So, am I going to make it?" Wilson's voice startled House; he thought he had been quiet enough not to wake any one.

"You've made it through the night; why break your winning streak now?" House asked. "How long has Medusa been like that? She's going to have a real pain in her neck…and I don't mean you."

"Why do you always call Annie, Medusa?" Wilson asked. "Medusa wasn't portrayed as being very nice."

"When I first met your girlfriend at Mayfield, her hair was stick straight; the mass of curls always amuses me."

"The curls are her natural hair," Wilson said fingering her locks as her head was on the pillow. "They made Lydia get her hair straightened, or they said it would have to be cut off; too hard to take care of."

"There were a lot of things that happened at that place, things they gave you no choice about, that never should have happened," House said disgustedly.

"Well, at least three good things came out of there; Annie, you meeting Lydia and you giving up Vicodin." Wilson looked at House when he didn't respond. "You have stayed away from Vicodin, haven't you?" House made a face.

"Yeah; wish I had one right now. Wish I had several; my leg is killing me. I missed my sleepy time pills and my hello sunshine pills as well," House looked at his watch. "Lydia brought them to me earlier, but nothing much is touching the pain."

"Have you talked to Tom? Maybe there's something he can give you just to take the edge off until you can get back on schedule."

"He's making rounds now; texted me that he'll be a little late getting to you," House said looking at his phone. He saw that Lydia left a message saying she was on her way back to the hospital. "Pretty soon we can get you back on your feet and get you home. Thanks to what Fraulein just found, I think we'll have a handle on Fire Marshall Bill; then I can pack my dark suit and head for Virginia." Wilson looked at House sympathetically.

"Things are that bad?" House put his phone back into his pocket and nodded.

"Besides the initial stroke, she's had a series of TIAs. That in combination with cardiac arrhythmia…she already told me she's hanging on until I can get down there. I told her that we needed to talk, that I needed answers. She swore she would wait for me," House said looking down at the floor. He had been very good at preventing anyone from reading his emotions over the years; but now it was so clearly written on his face that the situation with his mother was eating him up. Wilson felt sorry for his friend.

"Realistically, how long could she really have? House, I'm cranky and unfiltered, but I'm fine. Your team knows how to handle the other patient." Wilson fiddled with his bed controller. "You've waited for answers your whole life…getting to the bottom of a mystery is what you live for. You've got to go; I'm not going anywhere." Wilson was about to argue with House when he felt movement under his left hand. Annie turned her head and blinked a few times.

"Hi, Sweetie," Annie said, raising her head up and taking Wilson's hand. She saw that House was by the other side of Wilson's bed, right where she knew he would be. "How's he doing with the IV fluid?"

"He's on his second bag; just started it. About an hour from now, we'll take him down for the test, tell all the other patients that we have a priority appointment, and get him in there to get the MRI done," House said.

"It seems like it's taking forever," Wilson complained.

"First bag took an hour, maybe a little more, to go in," House said. "If I push it any faster, you and your arm will hate me more than you already do."

House, I don't hate you; in fact if you let me have some more juice, I'll…give you a box of chocolates on Valentine's Day." Wilson said. House looked at Annie and shook his head.

"The box had better be heart-shaped," House said. "I'll see what's around that won't kill you; which in this place would be a rare find." He carefully stepped over the Wilson's legs once again, and geared himself up to deal with the novice nurse at the desk. As he left the room, and turned toward his left, he saw Chase standing in the hall, talking with the fireman's wife. Since House had his cane with him, he wished he could turn and run; the wife was crying.

"Mrs. Sheeler, I'm sorry," Chase said. "Whatever he took, where ever he went, whatever he ate…it has done an extreme amount of damage to his immune system. While eventually he will heal, right now, it is leaving him in a dangerous position; Kevin has nothing to fight with. If we don't get him into surgery soon, things may not go well."

"Your husband is a third generation fireman," House said as he approached the two. "Has his prior ancestors worked in the same departments?"

"Yes, both his dad and grandfather were stationed at the same firehouse in fact," Susan said. "What…"

"Ever hear the phrase 'grandfathered in?'" asked House. "Your husband's job is the personification of that." House saw that Susan was shaking her head, about to disagree with him. "I'm not saying that Hubby didn't pass his training and earn the right to wear the uniform; I'm just saying the familial situation is where the phrase came from. He must have enough connections to be accepted as a trainer or instructor at the academy or something along those lines. But he'll only be able to do that if he cuts the BS, tells us what he took and make the decision to amputate the smallest part of his body possible."

"Dr. Chase was just saying that there's no way to save any part of his foot; is that really true? That…there's nothing you can do to let him…keep all of his parts?" House could tell from the way she was talking she was not thinking clearly. He was about to lay it out in the bluntest terms possible, when a voice came from the hospital room.

"Susan?" Kevin Sheeler was awake. House was hoping that he could talk some sense into the guy. Susan stepped into the room ahead of House and Chase.

"Hi, Honey," she said taking her husband's hand. "Kevin these are some of the doctors taking care of you."

"I'm Dr. Chase, I work for Dr. House in the Diagnostics Department. How are you feeling?" Kevin shook his head.

"Lousy. All I want to do is sleep. I hurt all over. My left leg is killing me," Kevin responded weakly.

"You're wanting to sleep is the body's way of trying to fight off the infection. Only you don't have an immune system left to fight this with," House said as he stepped over to the bed and drew back the sheet on Kevin's leg. He was concerned by Sheeler's choice of words in describing where the pain was. "How far up your leg does the pain go?"

"To the poison ivy wound; I know where that is all too well," said Kevin as he closed his eyes and winced in pain.

"Kevin, if you had stopped…picking at it so much, you wouldn't have had an open wound to get infected," Susan said.

"It doesn't matter how big the cut or wound is," House said. "All the bacteria needed was the smallest fissure to enter the body." House moved the sheet a little more. "Can you see down here?" asked House indicating Kevin's toes. Kevin picked his head up to get a look.

"Oh…no, NO! NO, PLEASE!" Kevin sounded pathetic as he begged. "I know who you are; you and some other doctor took care of my buddy's kid when he had cancer…"

"Dr. Wilson," House responded. Kevin shook his head.

"You helped him with cancer…you've got to be able help me! Please! We...we're having a baby," Kevin said softly, starting to fade again. "I want to be able to run and play with the kid. I can't if…if you…" He looked at House. "Do you have any children?" As House was about to answer, he became aware of Thirteen, Annie and Lydia standing in the doorway of the room. Despite the presence of two of his team members, he answered honestly.

"Yeah. My girlfriend has two kids," he quickly added on.

"Wouldn't it kill you if you couldn't run around at a playground with them, or play soccer or baseball? Wouldn't that eat you up?" House looked across the room to the window; the blinds were open and the sun was streaming in. Ben and Elise have soccer practice later, and even though he could move around the backyard a little with the kids, when he was down at the soccer fields, all he could do is sit by and watch.

"It does," House said flatly holding up his cane. "I got a major ouchie in my thigh about fifteen years ago. My days of being an All-American are long gone."

"With physical therapy, you'll regain most of your use in the leg." Thirteen said to Kevin. "There are several excellent therapists we can recommend to you. Tom Wilkinson, in particular, is excellent. He's worked with Dr. House." House shot her a look. "I'm trying to be encouraging," she said quietly.

"If the guy is so damn good," said Kevin as he tossed his head back and forth in pain, "Why does he still need a cane?"

"Because my boo-boo is that big," House snarked. "Way to go Barbie Cheerleader," he said to Thirteen as he passed her by. He got closer to the door and realized Annie's presence there must have something to do with Wilson. "What's up with your boyfriend?"

"I figured you were busy, so I went to the nurse to ask for something to drink for James, but she said his orders read NPO…and she wouldn't give me anything," Annie said looking confused.

"NPO just means he can't have anything to eat or drink," Lydia explained to her friend.

"Go tell her I said it was OK for him to have liquids," House said. Annie left the room and House turned his attention back to Kevin Sheeler. "Hey, you still with us?" It took a second, but Kevin opened his eyes. "The important thing right now with your foot and leg is to get you into surgery as quickly as possible. The faster we can get you in there the more of you we can save. Keeping it below the knee is the optimum goal. It makes the recovery infinitely smoother." Kevin took a moment then finally agreed.

"Please, leave as much of me as you can…" His head fell off to the side, and he obviously fell back asleep.

"Step one done; he agreed to the surgery; not only that, he agreed to it in front of his healthcare proxy." House looked at Susan Sheeler. "You are his healthcare proxy, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am and so is his best friend that he works with, Jose Menendez. All of the firefighters are required to have two healthcare proxies in case one can't be reached in the aftermath of a call."

"Great. We'll just need a copy of your healthcare certificate," Chase said. "And then I'll page Ellis, see who else he wants in on this."

"He hasn't come up to see Wilson that I know of," House said. "So…"

"Excuse me, Dr. Chase?" Susan said. "I don't have the healthcare certificate on me. I don't carry it round with me…"

"No one does," Chase admitted. "Where is it?"

"At the house," Susan and House said at the same time.

"Too bad we didn't have this conversation a little bit sooner," Lydia said as she took the Sheeler's house keys out.

"You don't have to go back there. Copies are kept at the firehouse. I'm texting Jose to see if he can stop in and pick it up or bring his copy over." House looked at the key ring that Lydia twirled in her hand.

"Are these your keys?" he asked Mrs. Sheeler.

"No they're Kevin's"

"Did his buddy Jose go with him on the training trip?" House asked as he started to get that look in his eyes. There was noise coming from the hall; House could see Annie looking upset and gesturing to House and the nurses' desk. She was talking to Taub and Foreman who had come onto the floor. House had the feeling he knew what happened.

"Yes, Jose went with him…Why?" Susan said as House left the room.

"Wilson get his juice?" he asked as he came up to the group. Lydia, Thirteen and Chase were right behind him.

"No, she said that someone from your team or you had to change the order," Annie said. House was in no mood for bureaucratic bull. He went around the corner of the nurses' desk, back into where the refrigerator/freezer was; he yanked the fridge door open and found no juice. Slamming it shut, he opened the freezer and found a lemon ice. He removed it, found a spoon, and headed back to the desk.

"Dr. House, I just explained to the woman that Dr. Wilson couldn't have anything until the orders were changed; but if it's OK…" House grabbed Wilson's chart, quickly flipped through the pages until he found the one with the NPO instruction written on it. He ripped the page out of the book, crumpled it up and threw it in the trash.

"Order's been changed," he said as he handed Annie the ice, and she hurried away to feed Wilson the treat. House joined the others by the patient's door. "Let me see the key ring the patient's wife gave you." Lydia handed him the set of keys. House held it up for all to see. "OK boys and girls, what is this?" House asked indicating the ring.

"It's a sombrero," Taub said, still startled by, but not surprised at House's actions.

"Right. And what's written on the sombrero?"

"Greeting from Mexico," Lydia said.

"Right. Let me see the bottles of medicine you found," House said to Lydia. She handed House the collection bag she had brought to the Sheeler's house. He set the key ring on the counter, and looked the bottles over before taking the open one out of the bag. There were no labels on the bottles, except for the price stickers. House was smug as he passed the bag back to Lydia. "What's unusual about the price labels on the bottles?"

"They don't look like price labels," Foreman said.

"Not for the US of A; but since our patient had obviously been south of the border…" House said holding up the key ring with the sombrero. He laid the keys back down, and opened the almost empty bottle. House squeezed the top of the dropper, threw his head back and placed several drops into his mouth. He brought his head forward to look at the group with a pleased smile.

"Mmm…the Nectar of the Gods," House proclaimed sarcastically.

"House, what the hell is it?" Foreman asked.

"It's...Metamizol."


	12. Chapter 12

Life and Limb

Chapter Twelve – "Life Sucks"

By: purpleu

"Those bottles are all unmarked," Chase said. "Where the hell…" House glared at him.

"Weren't you paying attention?" House said holding up the key ring. "Or was your mind too busy playing footsie with Nurse Ratchett?"

"So he lied to me when he said he hadn't traveled out of the country," Lydia said.

"And you think I'm mean, cynical and nasty when I say that everybody lies," House said smugly. "Here an unbiased person proves me right." He held his hand up for a fist pump; when he got no takers, he switched to a high five, but still no one would validate House's victory. "Sore losers."

"So, that drug is illegal in the U.S., and that's why he bought it in Mexico."

"Not illegal; just not FDA approved," said House

"But…how did he know what to buy if he just picked it up at some store?" said Lydia looking puzzled.

"He didn't," House said. "He was probably desperate for some relief from the aches and pains from the fall; the infection hadn't even started yet. Our patient walked into…" House examined the bottle he held. "…'Bodega de la Sol' …and asked the guy behind the counter for something for pain. The shop keep offers pills, our guy says no and he's offered the magic potion."

"He could have been sold poison, for God's sake," Lydia said. "You can't assume the safety of something when it's not even labeled."

"Probably peeled the label of before crossing back into the U.S.," said Taub.

"He might as well have been sold poison," Thirteen said coming over to the group. "We pulled another blood draw from him about an hour ago," she said to House. "His white cell count's dropped even further." House took the sheet from Thirteen and looked at the numbers; he was both mad at the guy's foolishness and concerned for his well-being.

"The moron probably took his last dose right before coming to the hospital," said House. Taking a deep breath, he knew what had to be done. "Get a hold of Ellis; tell him he's got some chop work that can't wait. Tell him not to worry about Wilson; I'll keep him from running away…"

"House, we don't have the healthcare proxy paperwork here. We can't take him into surgery; we can't even prep him until we have it," Foreman pointed out.

"Fine, then you can explain to our patient and his wife that we have to wait for a piece of paper that we know exists, but just don't have in our hot little hands, and that's why we're going to have to cut his leg off above the knee which will guarantee that he'll never climb a ladder again….including the one at the playground with his kid," House said blasting back at Foreman.

"Greg?" House rolled his eyes and looked behind him to his left. Annie was at the door of Wilson's room. "James says he's getting a lot of pain in his stomach and he's slightly nauseous. He's asking for plain crackers or bread."

"What he wants, but is not going to get, is a steak dinner; at least not yet," House noted. "He must be desperate. He knows he can't have any solids before an MRI with contrast." House shook his head. "Hey, Blondie!" he called to the young nurse he had encountered earlier. "Get her a pitcher of water, not too much ice. Wilson's stomach is probably cramping enough already."

"I'll bring it in Annie," Chase offered. "You look like you're not doing too well yourself; are you alright?"

"I think I'm as empty as James. You wouldn't think so with all that wonderful food we had available, but I…I think I just need something solid to eat."

"Go sit down," Chase said. "Tell Wilson I'll be right in." Annie nodded and went back into Wilson's room. The nurse had gotten the water while Chase and Annie were talking.

"You were so nice to that woman," the nurse said.

"Well…I never mind rescuing a damsel in distress," said Chase as the two exchanged flirtatious looks.

"If you don't stop, I'm the one who'll be up-chucking; and you'll clean it up," House said pointing at Chase. "Get that into Wilson. And call Ellis," House yelled over his shoulder.

"House…" Foreman said warningly.

"Susan said there were copies of the healthcare proxies at the firehouse," said Lydia. "If that's the case, she can call them and have a copy faxed over; it doesn't matter which copy as long as we have one on hand."

"It'll matter if a decision has to be made on the patient's behalf; we either have to make sure we have the wife's copy here or the best friend and his copy," observed Foreman.

"And every minute you stand here arguing formalities, is another minute you condemn him to a life of hell!" House said nodding his head toward Kevin Sheeler's hospital room.

"OK…OK…great see you in a bit." Chase ended the call and addressed House. "Just spoke to Ellis; he was on his way up here even before I called him. We can get things going after he sees the patient."

"Not according to the half-Dean of Medicine. He still thinks the world, including the patient's raging infection, is going to wait around while we stand here with our thumbs up our noses hoping for the 'necessary' paperwork to show up," House said sarcastically. "Maybe we should go ask the other half of the Dean of Medicine team what he thinks we ought to do. At this point, at least he'd say what he was really thinking."

"If you asked Wilson right now what we ought to do, I don't think you'd like his answer," Foreman said.

"I'd get the answer I'd want if I leaned on his right hip as I asked the question," House replied.

"Both copies of the healthcare proxies will be arriving here in the next five to ten minutes; as will Robert Sheeler, Kevin's father and fellow firefighter from his volunteer firehouse, and Jose Menendez from his city firehouse." Everyone turned to see Lydia standing in the doorway of the patient's room with her arms folded. "I thought that while you two were busy playing 'King of the Hospital' with each other, I'd go do something productive that might help the patient." House didn't let his guard down; he didn't let anyone see that he was mad at himself for wasting time arguing with Foreman. Foreman, unlike House, did nothing to hide his embarrassment.

"You…spoke to Mrs. Sheeler? Just now?" Foreman asked, not making eye contact with Lydia.

"No, I knew it was what you wanted to hear, so I made all of that up on the spot," she replied. "Of course I spoke to her." House inwardly smiled; Lydia was slowly sounding more and more like him when dealing with Foreman.

"Hello, everyone." The voice came from a few feet down the hall. It was Ellis arriving to have a look at his patients.

"Dr. Ellis," Foreman said shaking Ellis' hand. "Thank you for coming up here so quickly." House rolled his eyes as he watched Foreman try to regain his position of authority.

"You don't have to thank him; he was on his way up here, anyway," House said. Ellis shot House a look; he could feel the tension between the two men, and decided to subtly take sides.

"Dr. Chase gave me a brief outline of your patient's situation," he said to House. "I'd like to take a look at him and his chart and we can get things going. Time is certainly of the essence." House liked the way Ellis was handling the situation. He could have easily kissed Foreman's ass. But Ellis knew this was House's patient and gave him the respect and courtesy of addressing him on matters pertaining to Kevin Sheeler.

"I agree," House said shooting a look at Foreman. "Even though he denies making the trip, at some point he went down to Mexico and got these." House held up the unused bottles of medicine that Kevin had purchased. "Of course, nobody gave him proper care and operating instructions for Metamizole, so now he's suffering from suppressed bone marrow besides an infection from Vibrio which has led to gangrene."

"His immune system crashed from Metamizole?" Ellis asked. "How low is his WBC?" Thirteen handed him the copy of Kevin's most recent blood work. He let out a low whistle. "Damn! This is not good."

"I never thought I'd be treating a patient who suffered bone marrow suppression due to Metamizole It's an excellent and generally safe anti-inflammatory and analgesic…if used properly under initial, thorough doctor's supervision," commented House. Thirteen had gone behind the counter and brought out Sheeler's chart.

"Here you go," Thirteen said as she handed Ellis the binder. He flipped it open, and began reviewing the information.

"So he told you about his fall, but not what he was doing about it," Ellis said.

"Yes, in fact, when he came in to the clinic, he acted like the poison ivy was his biggest concern," Lydia noted. "But when he seized on me, it was obvious that there was something else going on." Ellis looked at Lydia.

"He seized on _you_? I didn't know the head of Insurance relations was also a doctor; although with all the paperwork you have to read through and understand, you really should be. Care to fill me in?" he asked as he continued to look at Kevin's chart. Lydia gave a condensed version of how she came to be working with House's team and her class over at the New Jersey Medical College. "That is wonderful. Are you going to go for the white coat?" Lydia laughed.

"I haven't decided yet. My children are still very young, and while I have a great support system," she said looking at House and the team. "I'm just not sure yet."

"Well, good luck to you," Ellis said. "I'm just going to make a quick stop in at Mr. Sheeler's room, say hello to Dr. Wilson and make sure everything is OK with him; then I'll go down to prep for surgery."

"You can't operate or prep him just yet," Foreman said. "His healthcare proxy paperwork isn't here yet, although Ms. Strohman has assured us it's on its way." Ellis looked down at the chart and flipped some pages.

"It says here he's married and that his wife is with him in his room," noted Ellis looking at the door of Kevin's room. "Is that true?"

"Yes, but she doesn't have a copy…" Foreman began.

"Dr. Foreman, I cannot imagine an instance where a husband and wife aren't each other's healthcare proxies. I don't need a piece of paper to confirm that for me."

"But…"

"Dr. Foreman!" Ellis said, sounding quite annoyed. "I will take personal responsibility for proceeding with the operation without that damn piece of paper being here. Now, let me see what I'm working with." With that Ellis walked past Foreman without even looking at him. "Ms. Strohman, since he is your patient, I'd like to have you in the room with Dr. House and me." Lydia tried not to show how pleased she was that a doctor other than House and his team treated her like a colleague. She was far from being even close to working on the same level as them, but Ellis treated her as an equal. House meanwhile, tried not to show how pleased he was at how well Ellis stuck it to Foreman. Thirteen, Chase and Taub weren't sure what to do, so they stayed back by the doorway of Sheeler's room; Foreman stood behind them. Susan Sheeler rose from her chair when the three entered the room, nervous as ever.

"Susan, this is Dr. Christopher Ellis; he's an orthopedic surgeon," explained Lydia. Susan came over and shook Ellis' hand.

"Please…please tell me that you can save as much of his leg as possible," she begged.

"That's always the goal, Mrs. Sheeler," Ellis said as he put on exam gloves. When he lifted the sheet to look at Kevin's leg, there was some movement from Kevin. Ellis picked up his leg and examined the deteriorating tissue. For now, all of the toes had turned to a purplish black color, as had the top and bottom of the foot approximately two inches from the toes. There was lighter discoloration, almost like a bruise coming closer to the ankle.

"We're going to be getting him into surgery as quickly as we can," Ellis said addressing Susan. "To err on the side of caution, I'm going to say we have to take the leg off just above the wound from the poison ivy since that's the entry point of the bacteria that caused the infection. The good news is that is still significantly below the knee. Your husband can be fitted with a prosthetic that will keep him as mobile as he was before all this happened."

"He'll have to be recertified for field work," a voice from the doorway said. Two men entered the room: Robert Sheeler, Kevin's father, and Jose Menendez, his friend and co-worker. "It can't just be assumed that he can handle the work," Mr. Sheeler said grimly. "It's not fair to the public, his fellow firefighters or himself." A moan came from Kevin.

"Dad…I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen…for me to be like this…"

"Take it easy, son. Right now the important thing is to get you well so you're ready to be a dad to my first grandchild as soon as it's born," Robert said. "But you do know there are going to be questions of what the hell happened on the training seminar. You were allotted six days…is the paperwork going to prove that you were there all that time or is there going to be a problem?"

"Mr. Sheeler, excuse me for interrupting," Ellis said. "But I'm your son's surgeon, Dr. Ellis. I have to quickly see a patient in the other room, and then prep for Kevin's surgery." Mr. Sheeler nodded.

"Oh, who do I give these to?" he asked holding out a folder. Foreman stepped forward, took the folder, and looked over the contents. House, Ellis and Lydia all exchanged looks.

"Everything seems to be in order here," said Foreman trying to sound authoritative. "We'll put these into the patient's chart in case any questions arise."

"I'll give them to Cassie," Chase offered.

"You know her name?" questioned House. "It won't have to be just 'Oh, baby' in the heat of passion?" Chase looked annoyed; busting his chops with just the team around was one thing. In front of the patient's family and a fellow surgeon…Chase took the folder and silently left the room.

"If you'll excuse me," Ellis said as he left to go to Wilson's room. He removed his exam gloves and headed into Wilson.

"Do me a favor: don't reveal any secrets of the bottles while I go with Ellis to check on his other patient," House said as he went to Wilson's room. House wasn't happy by the sight that greeted him. Wilson's parents had awakened and were fawning over him, which Wilson was not happy about either; Annie looked a bit green around the gills and was holding one throw-up basin while Wilson held the other. Ellis was standing back trying to take the scene in as he pulled a fresh pair of gloves out of the supply box on the wall.

"You toss your cookies yet?" House asked as he took the lead and came over to the bed.

"No, but I feel like I'm going to," Wilson replied.

"I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to your girlfriend. She looks worse than you do at the moment." House looked down at Annie. "What's with you?" Annie shook her head.

"Like I said in the hallway, I barely ate any breakfast; I was more concerned about James getting up here. I think I just need something to eat," she replied.

"I told James he should have some warm cola or ginger ale, but he said that he couldn't," Mrs. Wilson said. "I thought at least…"

"Claudia, leave the man alone! Do I have to remind you he's a doctor? He knows what he can and can't eat at the moment," Mr. Wilson admonished. Ellis was amused by Wilson's parents, but he could see Wilson was not.

"Mr. and Mrs. Wilson? I'm Dr. Ellis, Dr. Wilson's surgeon. Along with some members of Dr. House's team I did the artificial hip replacement on your son." Henry Wilson stepped forward and extended his hand; Claudia Wilson followed him.

"We can't thank you enough for what you've done for James," Henry said. "We…among other people," he said smiling at Annie. "Are very grateful for the care you've given him."

"It was my pleasure, believe me," Ellis said. He reached up and started to pull the curtain around the bed. "If you'll just pardon us for a few minutes…"

"I'll sit outside of the curtain," Annie said. "I'm not usually squeamish, but right now, I'm not doing too well."

"After this, go get something to eat," Wilson said. "And take them with you," he whispered indicating his parents who had moved out into the hall.

"I thought you liked her, not just loved her," House said. Annie was heard to be dry heaving on the other side of the curtain.

"I feel like she sounds," Wilson said. "I hate to prove my mother right, but maybe a little ginger ale would help." House looked at his watch as Ellis pulled back the sheet, and moved Wilson's gown around so he could get a look at the wound.

"You came off the anesthesia about nine hours ago," House noted. "In half an hour, you're having an MRI with contrast. No can do."

"House, I promise," Wilson said. "I'll be more concerned with the results of the test; I won't even be aware of my head spinning. Besides, I've played guinea pig for Sam with MRIs, including those with Gadodiamide used as contrast. I've never had a reaction."

"You unfortunately reacted to Sam," House noted.

"House, please…

"Wilson, don't beg; it makes you sound like more of wimp than you already are." Ellis gave House a look; House could tell what he was thinking. "His favorite group is ABBA and his favorite song is 'Dancing Queen.' It's my ringtone for him." Ellis tried so hard not to laugh, but failed miserably.

"For your information, my favorite song is 'Fernando,'" Wilson said indignantly. "You've heard Annie play it."

"I take it you're a musician?" Ellis called to Annie as he lifted the bandage up on Wilson's hip. "Looks good," Ellis said looking at House. As much as he wanted to agree, looking at the wound made House feel like he had been sucker punched; it was the way he felt the first time he looked at his leg after the surgery.

"Taub did a good job of closing," House said dully. He had no enthusiasm to offer right now.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Ellis; I was drinking a little water. Yes, I am a musician; I play cello with the Philadelphia Philharmonic."

"She also teaches at Jersey State and performs with local orchestras and classical groups," Wilson added in. "She sings beautifully, too."

"You seem to have all the fan club you need right here," Ellis said. He looked at Wilson and saw the pained expression on his face. "Does the hip hurt?"

"No, but the thought of that thing being in there does," Wilson admitted. Ellis laughed.

"I take it you don't want to look," he said.

"No, I'll take a look." House watched Wilson as Ellis moved the sheet and gown at little more so Wilson could see things from his perspective. No matter how well Taub did, the wound was still raw and nasty. House could see that Wilson was getting upset.

"Nice to know Taub's good at something besides boob enlargements and tush lifts," House said. He was hoping his remark could at least get a smile out of Wilson; it did.

"Dr. Taub is an excellent surgeon," Ellis said. "Dr. House, could I impose on your team to replace the bandage on Dr. Wilson? I'd like to go prep for Mr. Sheeler's surgery."

"If I can tear Chase away from his latest conquest-to-be, I'll have him do it. Or Taub. Don't think either you or Annie would be too thrilled if Thirteen did it," said House to Wilson.

"I'm not exactly Thirteen's cup of tea," Wilson noted.

"She bats from both sides of the plate," House said. "And she's single at the moment." Ellis looked back and forth between House and Wilson.

"The things you learn about people you work with when you put down the scalpel and visit the floors," he said shaking his head. He stopped for a moment and took a look at Wilson's groin area. "Has Dr. Rayner been up here yet to check his part of the Wilson reconstruction project?" House shook his head.

"Haven't seen him; don't care if we do. My team can check and make sure everything is good there. He's an excellent doctor, but acts like a jerk."

"Sounds like someone else I know," commented Wilson.

"I knew you two were friends, but I was surprised when Dr. Foreman said it's been about twenty years; that's quite a while."

"We've been through a lot together," Wilson admitted looking at House. "But nothing like this." Ellis seemed surprised.

"I would have thought that you two knew each other when you had the surgery on your leg, Dr. House."

"We did; Wilson was on honeymoon two or three when it happened," House said grimly.

"Two," Annie said from the other side of the curtain.

"She knows better than either one of you," Ellis commented as he removed his exam gloves. "Well, everything looks good here; has the therapist stopped in yet? Mr. Wilkinson, I believe is handling the case."

"He's going to let Wilson get through the MRI, then play torture games with him," quipped House. Ellis nodded.

"Sounds excellent. Dr. Wilson…I will check on you again tomorrow." Ellis extended his hand to Wilson.

"Dr. Ellis, thank you…thank you so very much," Wilson said gratefully. House pulled the curtain back so Wilson could see what little of the floor there was for him to see. Annie was still sitting in the chair, looking a bit better than before.

"Take care, all," Ellis said as he left the room.

"So what happens next?" Wilson asked as he tried to turn to see the IV bag. "Can we get this MRI going? Because I'm going to…start gnawing on my arm if I don't get some food soon."

"Make a deal with you," House said as he eyed up the IV infusion. "I'll have them give you a little ginger ale and a few crackers if you quit whining and complaining while I hear the sordid story behind my other patient's rapidly disappearing leg. Someone from the team will fix your bandage and bring you the food. Then we'll head down to see what treasures your body holds."

"Thanks. I think we'll both be a lot happier when we get this test over and done with," Wilson said.

"Me too," chimed in Annie.

"You want to help out?" House asked looking at Annie. She seemed surprised, but quickly nodded her head. "Take Ma and Pa Wilson down to the cafeteria. I don't care if they eat, but get some food into yourself. Green may be your favorite color, but right now it's not particularly becoming on you." Annie laughed and stood up.

"I accept the challenge," she replied. "Can we see the MRI being done on James or…"

"There's no reason why you wouldn't fit in the viewing room," House said. "But since you'd have no idea what was going on and by that point I'd be too cranky to answer a lot of questions…"

"House, you're always too cranky to answer questions," Wilson noted.

"Only the stupid questions make me cranky; if Songbird's in the room, your parents will be there, too. Need I say more?"

"I'll have Lydia come with us; she can handle most of the questions…can't she? I always feel like she understands so much."

"Fraulein knows a lot; it takes a hell of a lot more to be a doctor. Just wish she'd make her mind up to go back," House said with a frown.

"I remember the look on her face when she realized she couldn't even finish her undergrad work," Annie said. "She'll become a doctor." Annie came over to the bedside. "I'll be back in a little bit." She gave Wilson a kiss and met up with his parents in the hall.

"Let me go set things up," House said as he left Wilson's room. He looked to the nurse's station and saw all of his team except Foreman standing there. He glanced to his left and saw Lydia in Kevin Sheeler's room. Probably doing her diplomatic thing as usual House thought. "Wilson has been experimented on with Gadodiamide for the benefit of his first ex-wife; he can have some ginger ale and a few crackers. His IV bag is almost empty, so let's get the word out that he's next for an MRI, everyone else has to wait. Order the contrast from the pharmacy tell them to get it up here stat. Get the saline bags that are going to be hung after the scan. And his bandages have to be replaced." House glanced at Sheeler's room. "I'm going to go hear the tale of Harold and Kumar in Mexico." He entered Kevin's room and was greeted by Kevin and Susan Sheeler crying. At least no one else was, but House still didn't have a good feeling about this.

"Obviously this is a not a happy story I'm about to hear," House said sitting down. "But I'll at least find it amusing when I hear what idiocy prevailed on this little journey." Lydia gave House a disapproving look, but said nothing.

"Well, we got down to Louisiana, got settled in at the various houses of the firefighters who were putting us up and just hung out that night," began Jose.

"Boring!" House interjected. "Get to the part where he went playing in the briny sea." Jose was obviously made very nervous by the stares of Susan Sheeler and Kevin's father; House did not help the situation either.

"By getting up early each day and continuing past the usual cut-off time, which is total of nine hours, we finished the training course in four days instead of six. My uncle owns a fishing company out of New Orleans, and he invited us to take a trip to Mexico."

"How the hell did you get into Mexico without passports?" Robert Sheeler demanded.

"I had…tipped the guys off beforehand that the trip was a possibility; so everybody knew to bring their passports along if they had one."

"And if they didn't?" House asked. "How many guys did you have hiding in the head?"

"None," Jose said. "Everyone had passports."

"Too bad; that would have made the story really interesting if you had to sneak human cargo back and forth."

"Dr. House," Lydia said. "Would you please let the man tell the story you so desperately want to hear? They're probably going to be ready to take Kevin down to surgery shortly."

"Remind me to have you call me _Doctor_ House again later," said House moving his eyebrows up and down in a lecherous manner. The comment only got a dirty look from Lydia and confused looks from everyone else. "Continue."

"So we get on the boat and head to Mexico. Not too far away from where my uncle docks his boat is a beach. We pile into my uncle's van, stopped to get food, and we had a cookout on the beach. Well, the water was kind of choppy because of the tropical storm out at sea. As we're hanging out, we hear this lady screaming; turns out the riptide pulled her son out away from the beach. Me and Kevin got down to the water first and dove in. We snagged the kid, kept his head above the water. The easiest thing to do was to head to the fishing dock nearby where the guys lowered a rope and helped us pull the kid up. He was OK, just swallowed a little bit of water."

"The same water that did that?" Robert Sheeler said pointing to his son's leg.

"The kid didn't proceed to trash his immune system after he emerged from the water," House said. "Where does the joy juice come in?" Jose swallowed hard.

"We slept on the boat that night, and went back to the beach for a while during the day. My cousin was there, and he wanted to go to a club in town that night. Everybody was on board with the idea…except Kevin. He said he was going to sample some more of the local food and not drink so he could be a designated driver."

"Strip club?" House asked. Jose looked startled and slightly embarrassed to acknowledge where they went in front of Susan and Kevin's father.

"Yeah," Jose admitted. "But…But Kevin didn't go in," he reassured Susan. "I don't know where he went."

"I just walked around for a bit," Kevin said picking up the story. "Stopped in at a tappas bar, but didn't drink." He took several deep breaths. "I was heading back to the van figuring I'd catch some rest there. I must have walked further than I thought, because my whole body just ached."

"What had you been taking before this for the damage done by playing Humpty Dumpty?" This was the part House wanted to hear about.

"Over the counter pain killers; Advil, Aleve, anything. It started to get to my stomach. So then I started taking antacids like crazy. I got near the van, and saw what appeared to be a convenience store. The guy behind the counter spoke English, so I asked him if he had something for pain. He pointed to these bottles on the counter with droppers. I'm thinking it's baby medicine or something. He tells me no, it works really well. He didn't know the name of the stuff, but he said I couldn't get it in the U.S." Kevin shook his head. "I tried everything else I could get my hands on in the U.S., so I figured I try this stuff."

"Didn't it occur to you to go to a doctor and get something more appropriate for what you had going on?" Robert Sheeler asked his son.

"Dad…you know how it works." Kevin said closing his eyes. "I go to the doctor, it becomes a workman's comp case and I have to stay off the job for weeks until I go through the whole load of bureaucratic BS. I couldn't afford to do that to us with the baby coming. We already lost Susan's income due to her pregnancy complications."

"All you had to do is ask for help," Robert said. "Your mother and I would help you out any way we could. That's what parents do." Kevin dropped his head down, shaking it back and forth rapidly.

"I just wanted something, anything to make it better." Kevin lifted his head up, tears flowing down his face. "I never felt pain like this." Susan came over, put her arms around her husband and started to cry.

"I know it hurt you so much; you even whimpered in your sleep," she said wiping her tears. "You were doing OK in the first few days after you had the fall; but after we came back from the camping trip, it really flared up."

"Camping trip?" House inquired. "When was the trip?" His interest was piqued.

"I had the fall on Tuesday, we left on Saturday," Kevin said. "I felt sore, but not in pain…"

"Where specifically is the pain?" asked House.

"All over…"

"Is it mainly in your joints?"

"Yeah."

"Put 'em on," House said handing Lydia a pair of exam gloves. He put a pair on himself.

"Excuse me," Lydia said to Susan who was still standing near her husband. Lydia wasn't sure what House wanted her to do, but he had that certain look in his eyes; he was on the hunt. House grabbed a hold of the draw sheet under Kevin and lowered the head of the bed.

"Turning him toward you," House said. Lydia nodded.

"Kevin, fold your arms across your chest; it will make turning you easier," she said. Both she and House were strong, but Kevin was a big guy.

"Count of three," said House. "One, two, seven!" House pulled the draw sheet, rolled Kevin slightly to the right, then got his hands on Kevin's back to get him on his side. Lydia placed her hands on Kevin's torso to steady him. House began the examination with the back of the head and slowly made his way down Kevin's back.

"May I ask what you're looking for?" Robert Sheeler asked.

"Something that will prove that your son's even more of an idiot than he's already shown," replied House. Lydia saw by the look on Mr. Sheeler's face that he was not pleased with House's answer.

"I believe Dr. House is looking for evidence of Lyme disease," she said. "Where did you go camping?"

"Northeastern Pennsylvania; that's where we've gone since we've been kids. No one has ever had a problem with ticks," Kevin said. "Wouldn't I have noticed it on me when I showered?"

"Not if it's on your back…"Lydia began

"Even less likely to be seen if it's hidden in the folds of skin under your butt," House said. "You must have knocked the tick off during showering, but not before he bit." House gestured for Lydia to lean over. "Take a look." Sure enough, there was the classic red bull's eye that everyone is told to check for if they feel sick after a prolonged period outside. Kevin was not fat, but with the way he was built, the bottom of his tush hid it nicely.

"Lyme disease is treatable, isn't it?" Susan asked.

"Extremely treatable," House said as he and Lydia got Kevin repositioned. Lydia used the bed controller to bring the head of the bed back into a comfortable position. "In fact, if he had come into the clinic four weeks ago, instead of self-medicating with an unknown substance, we'd putting a bandage on his leg instead of cutting part of it off." House took his gloves off with a snap. He started to take a few steps toward the doorway.

"I just wanted it to stop!" Kevin Sheeler cried out. "I just wanted the pain to stop! You don't understand what it's like living with that intense pain every single day, all day long! I wanted to enjoy life again! I wanted the pain to stop…" Kevin dissolved into tears as his father, his wife and friend came over to his bedside. Even House, who spent most of his life struggling to hide his emotions, found his limits tested by Kevin's words.

_I just wanted the pain to stop! I wanted to enjoy life again!_

How many times did House have those words, or similar ones scream through his head over the years? More than anyone should endure.

"I understand you," House said holding up his cane. "All too well." House left Kevin's room, thankful that his team was in attending to Wilson. The only other person around was the blonde nurse and House was sure she was terrified of him.

"Dr. House?" House turned and saw Lydia coming out of Kevin's room. "I was going to get word to Dr. Ellis about the new development with Kevin. Should I tell him it's been confirmed or just suspected until we do the blood work?"

"Tell him it's strongly suspected; tell him about the bull's eye mark. Damn!" House said throwing his cane on the counter. "If he had just gone to a doctor…"

"He did. The doctor said if the aches continued he should see a physical therapist. The outcome would probably have been the same." House had rested his hands on the counter, his head bent down as he took deep breaths.

"No one should ever have the type of outcome he did," he said quietly, but firmly. "No one." Lydia knew he would pull back if she tried to comfort him now.

"I was wondering…considering the further drop in his WBC, should we add in another antibiotic before he goes into surgery? Say…Levofloxacine?" House kept his eyes on the counter, tapping his fingers up and down.

"You want to give him Levofloxacine?" he said.

"Yes, he has no allergy to any medicine and…"

"Ms. Strohman," House said turning his head to look at Lydia. "If you don't stop with this wimpy 'I don't know if I'm going to be a doctor' bull, I am going to put you over my knee and spank you." Lydia couldn't help smiling at House's comment.

"You always threaten…" she began.

"Dr. House?" It was Cassie, the nurse. "Dr. Chase asked me to order the contrast dye and the extra bags of saline. I just need a signature from Dr. Wilson's attending, and that's you."

"Really?" House asked. "I wondered why everyone was bugging me with so many questions." He glanced at the paper and put his scrawl across the page.

"Thank you. Oh, and I called down to the MRI room and told them Dr. Wilson would be down there in the next ten to fifteen minutes and he had dibbs on the machine." Cassie said. House gave the nurse a hard look. Maybe he had been too rough on her earlier; she was young and trying to make sure she did her job right. Even considering that, House wasn't going to cut her any slack; he didn't want her to think he was a pushover. He'd leave that for Chase.

"It'll probably be more like five minutes, but I'll release the brakes on the other stretchers and get him to the head of the line," said House.

"Excuse me…Cassie?" asked Lydia. "We need to order Levofloxacine for Mr. Sheeler," she said pointing to Kevin's room. Cassie looked a bit confused.

"I'm sorry, Dr….."

"Strohman," House said. "She's working with my team. Pharmacy may not recognize her name, so put the request under mine."

"Sure," Cassie said still not knowing what to make of Lydia's presence. House picked up the contrast and one bag of saline.

"Keep the other one back there for when he returns to the floor," House directed. Cassie took the bag and laid it on top of Wilson's chart. House grabbed his cane and made his way into Wilson's room.

"Ready to see if you really have a brain?" House said holding up the contrast.

"I am so ready, I'll even deal with your insults right now," Wilson replied.

"What was the deal with our fireman?" Taub asked as he took the contrast pouch from House and attached it to where the saline bag had been. House related the story Kevin and Jose told, then the discovery of the red mark that indicated Lyme disease.

"Damn!" said a voice from the doorway. "Why the hell didn't he go to a doctor?" Slick walked into the room followed by Foreman.

"He did go to the doctor," Lydia said. "For a fall from a ladder. No one had any reason to question the aches and pains. Until Susan Sheeler brought up the fact that they went camping." Slick looked confused.

"So a guy tells you he falls off a ladder, tells you he went camping, and is still really hurting a few week later…and from that you looked for Lyme disease?"

"No, I was looking for the tick that might have been on his body still," House said. "If we knew what kind of tick, we'd have a better idea of the treatment needed. It was most likely a deer tick and since Lyme is a common, ongoing disease…not my problem." Slick shook his head. He turned his gaze over to Wilson.

"I haven't seen you since you headed into recovery. How are you doing?" Slick and Wilson shook hands.

"Everybody tells me I'm doing well," Wilson said. "Right now I want to get this MRI over with so I can eat some real food."

"Let's get things going," Chase said as he looked out in the hall and saw two orderlies with a gurney.

"Dr. Wilson?" one of the orderlies asked as he stepped in the room.

"Present and accounted for," Wilson said as he raised his hand and smiled. Even with House feeling as tired and as cranky as he did, he was happy to see Wilson be so enthusiastic. Wilson was bound to crash later on from all the energy he was spending now, but maybe that would be a chance for House to get some more rest.

"We're going to have to be careful about moving him," Chase said pointing to Wilson's hip. "He just had a replacement put in." The first orderly nodded and moved some things away from the bedside.

"Just to make sure we keep him as comfortable as possible, could I ask for two more people to help with the transfer?" the second orderly said.

"I can give a hand," Slick said moving over to the gurney. The orderlies looked at him questioningly.

"It's OK; he's an EMT…and a doctor," Chase said stepping over to the gurney as well.

"I don't think that's…"Foreman started to say before House interrupted him.

"If you're going to say that's not a good idea, then get over there and help out. But since you're obviously more concerned about your five-hundred dollar suit…" House said locking eyes with him. Before Foreman could say another word, the orderlies, Chase and Slick had moved Wilson over. The orderlies readjusted Wilson's position and did what they could to make him as comfortable as possible.

"Um…where's Dr. Wilson's chart? Still at the desk?" the second orderly asked.

"Yeah," House replied. "Got to make a note that the contrast was hung. The chart will be down there before you get him on the table of the machine." The orderly nodded and they started to head out the door.

"Guys? Hold up a second," Thirteen said. "Wilson, I have to go to an ophthalmologist appointment. I've been having some trouble with my eyes…and it's beginning to affect my work," she said looking down at the floor. "I should be back before the test is done, but I wanted to wish you good luck." Wilson was concerned.

"Does this have to do with your migraines or…"

"Hopefully just the migraines." Thirteen took a deep breath. "But there have been some other changes, too." She looked around and was made uncomfortable by the looks everyone was giving her.

"If you need time off…or someone to talk to…" Wilson offered.

"No, thanks. I'll be fine. I'm just glad that Slick could come over and take me to the appointment." Thirteen started to walk away, but found her way was blocked by House.

"Who did the exam on him?" he said indicating Kevin's room. "The exam when he was admitted."

"Chase and Taub," she said. "I was the one writing in large capital letters, remember?" House nodded and stepped out of her way.

"Good luck," Slick said to Wilson. "See you in a little bit." Then he and Thirteen headed down the hallway. The orderlies started to move again followed by House's team.

"I want to use a fresh vein for the Levofloxacine," House said to Lydia. "Either Blondie or one of the other nurses can do the setup and hang the bag when it gets up here." He leaned his elbows on the counter.

"Oh, Dr. House…here's the Levofloxacine for Mr. Sheeler," Cassie said. "Are we piggybacking it or using a fresh site?" House pulled his head back a little and looked at the nurse.

"How did it get up here so quickly?" he asked.

"When I called it in, I told them I needed it stat and they said it would take at least twenty minutes, which I thought was ridiculous, so I went down and picked it up." House looked at Cassie and slowly shook his head.

"If you're trying to get on my good side, don't bother because I don't have one. Use a fresh site; set it for the same rate as the other two antibiotics." House turned to Lydia. "I might as well notate both charts while I'm at it." Cassie had stepped out from the counter and had gone into Kevin Sheeler's room; the other nurse on duty with her was hanging an IV bag on a patient across the hall. House went behind the counter and pulled out the two black binders. He started to make note of Wilson receiving the contrast dye.

"Greg!" Lydia whispered. "That's not James chart!" House looked down at the binder; sure enough, it was Kevin's.

"I guess I'm more tired than I thought," said House as he started to write in the other book.

"I know James is probably going to be exhausted pretty soon; he still has to do a little work with Tom. I don't care where you do it, but promise me you'll try and take another nap." House let out a sigh.

"Took the thought right out of my head. I'll make a deal with you: I'll even eat something." House reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty. "Get some kind of lunch for the two of us. Don't make it too healthy or I won't enjoy it. Hell, I won't even eat it. Which will defeat the purpose of you getting me the food in the first place." Lydia smiled and took the money from him.

"You must be tired; I didn't even have to argue with you about this."

"Why don't you head to the elevators? I just need a minute to finish the notes for him," House said indicating Kevin. Lydia grabbed Wilson's chart and started down the hall to the bank of elevators that lead both to the lobby and the MRI area in the basement. Cassie came back over to the desk.

"His veins didn't want to cooperate, but I got good backflow, so Mr. Sheeler's all set." House nodded, closed Kevin Sheeler's binder and headed into his room.

"Just here to make sure the voodoo needle was properly placed," House said as he walked in. He went over to the far side of Sheeler's bed; Cassie was right. The setup she did looked good.

"Dr. House, how long before they come to take Kevin into surgery?" Susan asked. There was some metallic banging noises coming from the hall. House stepped over and saw a gurney headed to Kevin's room.

"They're here now; eight operating rooms, no waiting." House left the room and hurried, as much as his leg would let him, down to the elevators. He found Lydia there waiting patiently.

"The creaky crate still running slow?" asked House.

"No, I've let several cars pass by. I wanted to wait for you." House managed a slight smile. "If I see Annie and Mr. and Mrs. Wilson in the cafeteria, should I bring them down?"

"If you can leave the silver foxes there, it'd be much better. But I suppose that's not happening." The elevator arrived and the two entered.

"Not very likely," Lydia admitted as she pushed the buttons for the first floor and the basement. "But I'll use all of my diplomatic skills available and give it my best shot." When they arrived at the lobby, she quickly leaned over and gave House a kiss before the doors opened. "I'll be down there in a few minutes." She handed him Wilson's chart and hurried to the cafeteria. The elevator continued on and arrived at the basement where House stepped out. He zigzagged through the maze of hallways to the room where the MRI was. As House entered the viewing room, they were just about to move Wilson on to the table; he let out a cry as he was moved. They had lessened the epidural on him as well as the morphine, but House knew it wasn't just true pain from the hip; it was phantom pain too. The hip that was no longer there was sending his brain pain messages, just as House's missing muscle did the same to him. The contrast bag still had a little ways to go, but by the time his team got everything set up, the timing would work out fine. House pulled out his cell phone and looked at it; he had it set on vibrate and when he was still up in I.C.U., his phone went off. Just what he dreaded: it was Virginia calling. House went out in the hall and moved several feet away from the doorway. He took a deep breath, pushed some buttons and returned the call.

When Lydia rounded the last corner on her way to the MRI room, she was surprised to see House standing in the hall. His head was dropped down and she could see that he had pushed something on his phone. He had a very tense look on his face; Lydia couldn't tell if he wanted to scream or cry.

"Hi, hon. What are you doing out here? Everything OK?" Lydia looked over her shoulder at the room where Foreman, Chase and Taub were; they seemed to be in a good mood, so she was puzzled as to why House was out in the hall.

"Got a call from my mom's cardiologist. She's had two more incidents of arrhythmia. They only had to zap her once, but they're concerned that the incidents are continuing. A more aggressive approach would probably be best, but they don't think she'd do well if they did a catheterization on her. I called Bell, talked to him and my mother." House shook his head. "She says she's not in pain, she seemed alert, aware of her surroundings…she even asked me how my patient and Wilson were doing. And if I had eaten and gotten some sleep." House turned toward Lydia. "She seemed capable of understanding what was going on and making her own decisions about things. Mom wanted to know my professional opinion; I told her I wanted to hear her personal one." House had been leaning against the wall; he now moved and started pacing a little. "She said she was fine for now and wanted to wait it out. She said she's still hanging on for me." House stopped and closed his eyes. "I told Bell to call me if anything happened; I told the both of them we'd be down there sometime later tomorrow. I figured at that point, Firefighter Frankie will be back up in I.C.U., Wilson will have the MRI finished, taken a few steps…and I can get down to my mom." Lydia smiled and came over to where House stood.

"That's a good game plan. You'll feel better knowing that everyone is on the road to recovery, and you can come home and get a good night's sleep, so you'll be ready for tomorrow. I can talk to Ben and Elise, make arrangements for people to watch them and take them to school. You can stop here, check on everyone, and then we can get on the road by…I'd say ten or eleven." House nodded.

"I'll go into the storage room and get out your suitcase; mine reminds me too much of Mayfield."

"I already got it out and started to pack when I went home earlier. I also took out my garment bag and put a pair of dress slacks and a blazer in there for you and one of my business suits," Lydia said shifting the tray of food she held from one hand to another.

"Thanks," House said as he headed into the observation room. Lydia followed him and set the tray on a counter away from the equipment.

"You have a cheeseburger, chips and a bottle of Coke," Lydia said taking the items off the tray. "The fryer wasn't working, so they didn't have fries."

"When isn't the fryer broken?" House complained. "It almost burnt the hospital down right after you moved back here."

"And that's the day I met your team," Lydia said smiling at Chase, Foreman and Taub. House had taken several bites of his burger and went over to the microphone.

"Ready?" he asked Foreman.

"Ready," Foreman replied. House clicked on the microphone.

"OK, Wilson, ready for a test of your self-control?" House asked.

"You…you of all people are asking me that?" Wilson questioned. "Wait…House, are you eating?"

"Yep. It's only food from the roach palace that resides in this place, but it's real food," House said as Annie and the Wilsons entered the observation room.

"You know I'm starving," Wilson began. "How…how can you be standing there…downing food of any kind when you know I'm in here desperate for food?"

"The real question is how desperate am I that I'm actually enjoying the food from this place at the moment?" House teased. "Stay still and let's get this over with." Foreman started the test. Lydia stood back near Annie and the Wilsons explaining what the machine was doing and what it was looking for. There was only one time she had to double check something with House and since it wasn't a stupid question, he didn't mind answering it. The entire test took about twenty-five minutes, but to all concerned, it was the longest twenty-five minutes of their lives.

"House?" Chase said, motioning for him to come closer to the monitor. House looked and nodded his head. He left the observation room, walked over to the MRI machine, and pushed the control to slide the table out of the machine.

"Wilson…you have 48 hours to continue speaking without blame. After that, the swelling will have gone down and you can go back to being overly nice again." Wilson had a huge smile come across his face.

"No bleeding?" he asked.

"No bleeding," House confirmed. He walked back into the observation room to see Mr. and Mrs. Wilson hugging everyone they could get their hands on. He managed to avoid them, but took a quick hug from both Annie and Lydia.

"I'll give the orderlies a call so we can get him back upstairs," Foreman said.

"I'll call Tom and let him know Wilson will be ready for him soon." Chase said.

"Call dietary," House said. "Tell them to send up whatever they're passing off as food. We can go out and get Wilson real food after he's up on his feet…literally."

"House, I just noticed that there was no chest x-ray done on Wilson when he was admitted," Taub said looking through his chart.

"I think we were a little more concerned with the blood that was spurting out of him and the fact that his heart stopped. We're down by radiology; tell them to fit him in for a quickie." Taub left to make the arrangements for the x-ray, as House looked into the other room at Wilson. Annie had gone in and was talking to him; both were crying. House almost wished he could allow himself to release his emotions that way, but he knew he couldn't allow that much vulnerability to be exposed.

The x-rays were done quickly, and House decided to let the radiologist read them and place them in Wilson's chart. The guy was a stickler for protocol, so rather than let the guy get himself in a twist, House decided to let him handle it. Wilson was quickly settled into his bed when he returned to I.C.U.; Tom was already waiting there for him. The food hadn't arrived yet, so Wilson and Tom felt it was best to get the physical activity out of the way so Wilson could enjoy eating.

"OK, you've got the extra gown around you so you can have a touch of dignity," Tom said bringing a walker to Wilson's bedside.

"I feel like I lost that when I first got here," Wilson said.

"Sorry, we tried not to laugh too loudly," Thirteen said as she and Slick walked into the room. She was wearing a pair of tortoise frame glasses that looked really good on her. "I take it the test was good?"

"Yeah, if I want to get you back for that last remark, I only have two more days to get it in," Wilson said with a smile.

"House, if you could kneel on the bed behind Wilson and play spotter," Tom said as he put the walker directly in front of Wilson, who was sitting up. "We'll be all set." Wilson was shaky at first; he was unsure of the new piece of equipment in his body. But he did well, walking just past the end of his bed and back to a Geri-chair in the corner.

"Would you like to sit up in the chair to eat?" Tom asked. Wilson's eyes lit up.

"Would I? I don't know which I'll enjoy more: sitting up or the food."

"Sitting up," House said coming in carrying Wilson's food tray. Tom brought the bed tray around and set it up in front of Wilson. "Don't blame me if this stuff makes you feel like you've been shot," Everyone in the room groaned and gave House a dirty look.

"Lydia, where are your children? I thought they were coming in," Mrs. Wilson asked.

"They were supposed to, but one of Marianne's students had free time and offered to keep an eye on them over at the college," Lydia said. "They'll come with her when she visits tonight."

"Um…excuse me. Dr. House?" Never had House had his name called so many times in one day. He turned to see the radiologist in the doorway. "I just wanted to show you Dr. Wilson's chest x-ray." They guy was overly cautious; he had the x-ray tech do the shot twice. House disappeared out to the hallway where there was a viewer for test images.

"So this food is just to get something into you. Where do you want me to get some real food from?" asked Annie. Wilson laughed.

"Let me see how well I get this slop down, we'll go from there," he said.

"I like your glasses, by the way," Lydia said to Thirteen.

"Thanks; I like seeing clearly," she said. House walked back into the room carrying a large manila folder holding Wilson's x-ray film. Lydia didn't like the way he looked. She knew how he looked when he was tired, but this wasn't that look.

"You still have that flashlight we used to look at your nephew's films?" House asked Slick. He nodded in reply.

"What's the matter? Is my heart three sizes too small?" Wilson said.

"In your case it'd be too big," Annie said. Slick had taken out the flashlight.

"Stand there," House said positioning him opposite Wilson. House took the film out and held it up to the light for Wilson to see. Wilson looked up at the film; at first he couldn't comprehend what he was looking at.

"No…No. Not after all this…no!"

"That's why they took the second picture," House said. "They knew we'd question it." Lydia moved over next to Wilson; her eyes popped out when she saw the film. She looked over at House; she could see he was struggling to keep it together.

"What are you looking at?" Annie asked as she came and stood on Wilson's other side. "Oh…Oh my God!" she said as she looked at the x-ray and saw the same white mass that House, Lydia and Wilson saw. "Is…is that tuberculosis?"

"No," said Wilson. "It's cancer."


End file.
